


Give It Up to Me

by moon_star



Category: teen wolf - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Office, F/F, F/M, Fuckbuddies, M/M, Single Parent Derek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-15
Updated: 2017-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-04 18:43:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 49,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1789252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_star/pseuds/moon_star
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek is a single father and a full time attorney.  Stiles is the new intern at the law firm.  They find it extremely hard to work together, but it gets even harder when they start sleeping together.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Falling

**Author's Note:**

> this came from me talking to my co-worker.
> 
> took the title from Shakira's song: Give It Up to Me (ft. Lil Wayne) and actually, every chapter is shakira music inspired, what can i say, i'm a fan ≖‿≖
> 
> enjoy ♥

 

“Use your eyes only to look at me  
Use your mouth only to kiss my lips  
We are branches of the same old tree  
You can laugh only if you laugh at me  
You can cry only if you cry for me  
Don't forget that you're condemned to me  
Can't you see  
You always were  
You'll always be”  
\- _Rules_ , Shakira

  
“Listen little brother, it’s your birthday, we need to celebrate it!” said Laura as she refilled her cup with more wine.

Derek should have known better. He really should have. When his sister said, _“We need to talk, it’s an emergency,”_ he should have asked what kind of emergency instead of jumping the gun and driving at full speed to her apartment, Sophia, his daughter, fully awake and talkative in the back.

“Laura, is this why you called me?” asked Derek exasperated as he pried Laura’s phone from the toddler;s hands and handed it back to his sister. But as soon as the phone was in Laura’s hand, Sophia walked over to her aunt and pouted.

“Yes, I did call for that reason,” said Laura picking up Sophia who latched on to her and whined, she didn’t cry, she never did, and Laura handed her back her phone. “But in my defense, you didn’t let me finish. You just _assumed_ that something had happened to me and you drove out here before I got a word out!”

“You do realize that my birthday is not for another four months, right?”

“Exactly why you should have let me finished my sentence over the phone instead of just rushing over here!”

Derek sighed getting up from his seat.

“Fine. It doesn’t matter, I’m not doing anything for my birthday,” he said as he reached for his daughter’s hands again, but Laura batted them away.

“Derek, it’s going to be your thirtieth birthday!”

“I know, but, I have other things to do,” he shrugged walking to the living room and sitting on the couch, not before missing the look of impatience on his sister’s face.

Derek didn’t want to celebrate his birthday. When he was younger, he used to love celebrating his birthday, until all the important and most tragic things happened on his birthday.

For his seventeenth birthday, he told his parents he didn’t want to become an attorney and follow in his father’s footsteps. He didn’t want to take over the Hale & Associates, LLC. He wanted to become a history major, a professor. His father was disappointed and his mother, sadly, she was too and his birthday went uncelebrated.

On his eighteenth birthday, he received news that his parents had had a car accident, but he didn’t find out about it until the day after because he had been far too gone to know to pick up any phone calls, let alone listen to any voice mails. His father died one month later and he promised him he’d become an attorney, though even then, he still just really wanted to teach.

But, he felt guilty; like he could have done better to make his father happy. They had spent almost a whole entire year avoiding each other and he skipped a whole year’s worth of family gatherings.

His next three birthdays went with no celebration, they weren’t even mentioned, and he got his criminal law and justice Bachelor’s degree by the age of twenty two. He applied to the Princeton University and, as expected, was accepted.

At age twenty five, one year away from graduating at the top of his class from Princeton, he met her. And nothing was the same after that.

For his twenty-fifth birthday, Laura had insisted that they go out to celebrate his birthday. _‘It’s not all about studying and working, baby brother,’_ she had said and of course, Laura had already graduated and taken over the firm and as stressful as he knew the firm was, she always made time to go out with her friends and have dinner with the family and of course, Derek never did.

She had dragged him out to a small bar out in the city by threatening to move in to his apartment if he refused to go and celebrate with her. And that’s where his life changed completely.

As he sat waiting for his sister, he saw her from across the bar and was surprised to see her alone; she was beautiful, fair skin, pink lips, green eyes, dirty blond hair, wicked smile. _Mesmerizing_ , that was the thought that came into his mind as he noticed her smiling at him, arching her eyebrows. He faintly smiled nodding and turned back to his whiskey.

Ten minutes later, he called his sister, but his call went directly to voice mail. He didn’t even bother leaving a message, he got up and was about to leave when suddenly, she was at his side looking at him with a cunning smile.

“It’s not very often that good looking men get stood up,” she said running her hand through her hair. “She must not be worth it anyway.”

Derek smiled, had he just been complimented?

“I got stood up by my sister, she’s worth it, I’m just a loser for coming out here tonight,” he found himself responding with a smile.

She smiled at him crookedly, “I’m Kate,” she said stretching out her hand to his.

“Derek,” he said taking her surprisingly cold hand.

Several drinks later, he wound up in her apartment – in her bed. He had kissed, licked, and caressed every inch of her skin over and over and over again, his mouth going slack, but he kept going until he couldn’t anymore. She had smiled, laughed, and moaned at his touch and perhaps it had been the alcohol, but he swore he had never felt the way he did just then.

He woke up to an empty bed and to a note that read:

_“Flying to California. Left keys on the kitchen table. See you next Thursday, say 7?_

_PS: Thanks for a great night and happy birthday”_

And that was that. He went back to her apartment Thursday at seven and he kept going back for the next seven months until they decided to move in together. He sold his apartment, and much to his sister’s dismay, moved in with Kate. He thought everything was perfect. He thought he had met the person whom he was going to spend the rest of his live with. No matter what, he really should have known better.

On his twenty-sixth birthday, he proposed to Kate.

He grabbed both her hands in his and led her out of their hotel in Paris.

The view, the view was incredible; everything could be seen from their bedroom. He looked Kate in the eyes and said, “Kate, we’ve been together for a year and nothing – no one, has made me as happy as you have. I love you, Kate, I know I say it to you on a daily basis, but I need for you to understand that when I say I love you, I mean it with every fiber of my being. I love you not only because you make me happy, but because making you happy makes me happy. Seeing you smile melts my heart; hearing you laugh takes my breath away, being with you makes me feel alive.

"I want to wake up next to you every morning for the rest of my life…” he continued as he released her hands and got down on one knee, pulling out a black box, “I love you more than I’ve ever loved anyone and I can’t imagine a day in my life without you,” he continued with a shaky breath pulling out a black box from his pocket, “would you, Kate Argent, marry me?” he asked opening the box.

She got down on her knees too and placed both her hands on Derek’s face. “I love you too, you know that right, Derek?” she asked and Derek nodded in response. “And nothing will make me happier than being your wife – than being with you for the rest of forever.”

She kissed him then and he gently placed the ring on her finger. She hugged him then, tighter than she had ever hugged him and he felt her smile against his neck.

It may have been because he was young and she was his real first love, but he believed everything she said to him.

He believed her.  
Every. Single. Time.

When she said she loved him, he believed it.

When she said she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him, he hung on to her.

When she said she couldn’t live without him, he closed his eyes and imagined the rest of his life with her.

Nothing – not a single cell in his body – expected anything to change. They were written in stone; they were going to be eternal, that was what he always thought.

But then, as everything else in his life, things changed. Everything changed drastically never giving him time to catch up. Never caring about him; his life just moved on without him being aware of it moving a different direction, until it was too late for him to stop it.

Three months later, Kate delivered the news that she was pregnant, _‘Happy belated Birthday, sweetie, you’re going to be a daddy.”_

He had never been so happy. He had never felt more alive than at that precise moment and nothing else mattered to him. Not how much of a disappointment he had been to his father, not how much he had gone through to finally graduate from Princeton at the top of his class. Not that he didn’t speak to his mother or to his younger sister, nothing.

All that was important to him was that he was going to have a son or a daughter, that he was going to be a father, and that he was going to have a little family of his own. He ran off to hug Kate and to thank her for giving him the chance to have his own family.

During Kate’s pregnancy, Kate turned cold.

She no longer wanted to spend any of her time with Derek. She avoided him most of the time. She asked him for space, asked him to move in to the guest room. She didn’t want to wake up next to him anymore – she refused to be in the same room with him. She wanted to be on her own.

She didn’t _want_ Derek.

Kate didn’t want to be with Derek, he could feel it. She didn’t let him touch her. She didn’t let him near her most days. She couldn’t even stand the sight of him. He felt her change. He felt her move farther away from him. He could feel it and it terrified him because more than anything, she didn’t want to be the mother of his child; she didn’t want to be part of his family, or rather, she didn’t want him to be part of hers.

When she was three months pregnant, she met Derek at his office and asked to have lunch with him. He went, of course, but he didn’t like their topic of conversation.

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Kate said, as he sat down across the table from her. “I don’t want this baby, not anymore, not now, not ever,” she said with cold eyes.

Derek was shocked beyond reason. He knew something was wrong with Kate, he knew she was avoiding him on purpose, he suspected she was having a hard time with her pregnancy and he had spoken to his sister and even to his mother about it; had more than anything questioned his mother about her pregnancies, and they both had said that what she needed was space, what he needed to do was give her space. She was carrying a life inside her, she would be feeling the weight of the responsibility on her shoulders and what she needed now, was Derek to stand by her when she asked for him, but for him to respect her and to give her time to get adjusted to the new addition to her life.

But what he didn’t think of, was Kate not longer being happy with the baby. Okay, fine, her falling out of love with Derek was reasonable or at least what Derek could deal with. But what he couldn’t deal with was losing his child. Not when he was so excited, so happy, had been so since the moment she told him she was expecting his child. And now, she seemed so determined to get rid of the baby and his happiness, all at the same time.

“Why?” Derek asked with a shaky voice. “Why not anymore? Why not now? Why not ever?”

“You know why,” Kate responded crookedly.

“But I don’t,” responded Derek, tears forming in his eyes. His life as he knew it was about to be over. Kate was about to put an end to it. “You… you said, you _wanted_ this, you were happy about _this_!”

“I changed my mind,” she shrugged. “Guess I never told you that I’m not steady. That I don’t ever want to feel tied down? This,” she said resting her hand over her still not visible belly, “is tying me down, not only to something permanent, but also to you and just I _can’t_ do it; I thought I could, but I really can’t. I _refuse_ to do it, Derek.”

Derek stared up at the ceiling to avoid looking at her in the eyes and to avoid the tears falling down his eyes and sighed before finally speaking. “You don’t want it, so you’re not gonna have it.” He said it more as a statement than as a question.

The waiter came in with Kate’s green tea and Derek’s coffee and placed it on their table before leaving again.

“No,” Kate said. “I’m having it –”

“But you just said,” interrupted Derek hastily. “You –”

“I _said_ , I didn’t _want_ it, not that I’m _not_ having it,” Kate said. “I’m having it, this baby, but I am not keeping it. I don’t want to be tied to it, but it also seems unfair not to have it. Don’t you think? That’s why I asked you to meet me here so we could talk.”

“You’re making no sense,” Derek said. “Stop jumping around, Kate, and just tell me what you want.”

“Impatient,” Kate whispered before taking a sip of her tea. “I don’t want it so unless you want it, I am giving it up for adoption. That’s what I’m getting at.”

“I want it,” Derek said before Kate said anything else. “The baby, I will keep it.”

Kate smiled crookedly. “I thought you would.”

Derek moved out of Kate’s apartment and bought his own on the same day. He proceeded to take care of anything and everything Kate needed. He hired a maid for her on a full time basis and a chauffeur, paid for her constant trips to California and for her and her niece’s trip to Bora Bora and to Beijing. Additionally, he paid for all of her prenatal care and for her new apartment in Paris. By the time her due date came around, Derek had spent over three quarters of a million dollars on Kate.

His daughter was born on December 26th, one day after his twenty-seventh birthday. Kate signed her surrender of parental rights on the condition that their daughter share her name as a constant reminder of her in Derek’s life and not before she checked that the 2.5 million Euros had been wired to her account in Europe.

He didn’t see Kate after that and two days after her birth, Derek took his daughter, Kaitlyn Sophia Hale, home. He refused to name his daughter Katherine, but considered Kaitlyn was fairly close and that was that. He didn’t look back again and Kate disappeared completely from his life and it was as if he had never met her.

Three years had passed and though he loved celebrating his daughter’s birthday, he hated remembering his.

“Laura,” he said. “I can’t do anything for my birthday; I don’t want to do anything for my birthday, you can understand that, can’t you?”

Laura walked over to the living room and sat on the couch across from him with a giggling Sophia still in her arms. “I can,” she said running her fingers through the toddler’s curly hair. “But can you understand that you are still so incredibly young and you have to rebuild your life?”

Derek sighed.

He had been trying to rebuild his romantic life… a little. He had been going out when he got the chance or, or rather when Laura or Erica, Laura’s cunning secretary and friend, volunteered to babysit for him on the accounts that they needed to stay in and not go anywhere because there was a lot to do and they had zero discipline to do it on their own.

Derek knew they were just doing it to get him out of his apartment. He appreciated the sentiment, but he didn’t appreciate being pushed out of his own house.

His sister was right. He needed to move on, not from Kate, he had moved on from Kate the moment she asked for money in exchange for his daughter, but more than moving on; he needed to move forward. He needed to stop fucking around, because that’s what he did, just fuck around; didn’t exchange phone numbers, didn’t stay overnight. He just got in, got laid, and got out.

Derek knew that what he really needed to do was stop avoiding his life, all of it, by focusing on his daughter’s life and on all of his cases back in his office, and focus on his.

But he couldn’t, not when everything had come to feel so safe.

“I can’t,” he responded sighing. “There’s nothing to rebuild. My life is fine now, the way it is, I have all I need and I don’t need more, Laura.”

“You know what I mean, Derek,” said Laura kicking him on the leg.

“I don’t,” he said getting up and walking over to Laura to get Sophia. “And I don’t have time for you to explain it to me, I have a trial in the morning and Soph needs to get to sleep.”

As if on cue, Sophia yawned and Laura handed the sleepy child to his brother and gave him a tight hug saying, “You know I only say this because I care about you, Derek.”

“I Know,” he replied leaning in to his sister’s hug, “I’ll see you in court tomorrow.”

Derek drove home in silence and Sophia fell asleep before they made it home, but woke up as soon as Derek took her out of her car seat. He carried her home and lulled her to sleep again.

He laid in his bed awake for over an hour thinking about Kate. About how it would have been if she would have stayed, about what their wedding would have been like, about how his life would have been different if he had never met her.

He fell asleep all bundled up in his covers.

The night, for some reason, fell extremely chilly despite the heat being turned on.

/*/

“Scott, buddy, I’ve already told you ten times, I’m not nervous, Stiles Stilinksi doesn’t do nervous, he never has and he never will,” said Stiles into his phone.

It was his first day at his new internship and he was slightly terrified.

“Bud, we’ve known each other all our lives, when have I ever been nervous? I dare you to name one single time! You couldn’t even if you tried, bro, because there has never been a time – not even when I was in deep shit did I ever get nervous – not even when I was being interviewed, and there were a lot of people, granted they weren’t all that competent, well except for that one girl I know, who if I do say so myself, is completely your type, she also made it into the internship! Can you believe it! They usually only pick one, but not this time, no they picked two! _Two_! That’s how awesome me and Alli –”

“You ramble when you’re nervous,” said Scott over the phone and Stiles immediately stopped.

“I do not!” he objected. How _dare_ Scott call story time, _rambling_!

Scott laughed on the other side of the phone. “You are going to do fine bro, you always do. So quit your worrying and go out there and take over the firm, YEAH!”

Stiles sighed. “I want to, but I can’t. It’s not just any firm, Scott; it’s the Hale’s Firm. I’ll be lucky if I survive today.”

“Nah, you’ll do fine,” said Scott. “Hey, listen, I gotta go, practice is starting up again.”

“When’d you say that game was?” asked Stiles.

“Saturday,” replied Scott.

Stiles sighed. Scott had been blessed with strong, firm legs that allowed him to run super fast and with a coordination that was by far, the best Stiles had ever seen. He was also smart and had always maintained decent grades and had always played soccer. It was only logical that he’d be scouted and turned into a soccer heartthrob.

“You’re coming, right?” asked Scott.

“I’m your girlfriend, aren’t I? Of course I’ll be there,” replied Stiles with a smile.

Scott laughed.

Stiles, being Scott’s best friend, had always gone to all of Scott’s games and had even showed up to a lot of his practices. And apparently, so did the other players’ girlfriends and so Stiles always wound up sitting with them. He had even gone to some of his out of state and out of the country games during his breaks, so it was almost natural that what happened when they were little also happened now that they were adults; Stiles was confused as his best friend’s lover.

Scott had even been questioned about it during his interview for _Men’s Health_. It hadn't even been that subtle.

It was ridiculous.

“Luck baby,” Scott said laughing and hung up.

Stiles groaned.

It was going to be a long day – nope, knowing him, it was going to be the longest day of his life.

 _Ever_.

He got out of the Jeep and walked over to the building. Went through security, showed them his internship approval and was asked to take a picture for his employment identification card before he was allowed to go upstairs.

Once he was upstairs, he was led to the waiting area where he found Allison already seated and on her phone.

“Hey,” he said sitting next to her. “You’re here early, yeah?”

Allison smiled and put down her phone, “I’m just so nervous, you know?” she said before closing her eyes.

He knew, oh he so knew.

But he couldn’t believe Allison was. She was the daughter of one of the most successful men in the whole country. She was the heir to a multi – million dollar empire and yet, she was always so humble. She worked twice as hard as other people did, as if she had something she wanted to prove to the world. Or as she had put it the other day, ‘she wanted to show everyone that she could make it on her own and that she didn’t want to smooch of her parents' money. No, she was going to do it on her own.’

Stiles admired her for that.

Allison was completely beautiful. She was petite and slender, with a beautiful face structure, beautiful dark brown eyes, black wavy hair and strong arms that could take down any man. And her mind, her mind was even more beautiful than her body. And she was nice. She was tender and caring and _genuine_.

Stiles was sure that if Scott ever met her, he would fall in love with her at first sight and he hoped Allison would too, because she deserved to end up with a man that would respect her and love her and her mind equally.

He also thought she was crazy, because, as he had said it to her before, she didn’t need to prove anything to the world. She was what she was: great. She didn’t owe the world anything, and moreover, she didn’t have to _prove_ anything to her father. Her dad and everyone else just needed to accept how great Allison really was.

End of story.

“You’ll be okay,” whispered Stiles reaching for her hand.

“Thanks,” she said taking his hand in hers and squeezing it lightly once.

Both of them had grown to be close during the course of the years. They had always almost had all the same classes, had always debated against each other, had faced each other so many times during mock trials and had sought each other’s aid just as much.

Stiles could safely say that Allison was his second closest friend.

Before he said anything else, the door to the waiting room opened with a bang and a tall blond, curvy woman walked in.

“Mr. Stilinski, Ms. Argent,” she said looking at them through arched eyebrows. “Attorney Hale is ready to see you,” she continued, “come this way.”

He and Allison stood up immediately and followed behind her.

“They’re here,” she said as soon as she opened the door and nodded to them to walk inside.

“Oh,” said a woman behind a desk. “That’s great,” she continued with a small smile as Allison and Stiles walked in, “and their files?”

“On your desk,” said the blond girl. “If you need anything else, let me know.”

“Thank you, Erica,” said Attorney Hale with another smile and Erica left the room without another word.

Attorney Hale was dreadfully beautiful. He had heard from other students at his campus that she was like no other woman. That she had the ability to silence a whole entire lecture room with only one look. That she was more cunning than anyone else they had ever met. That she was not only scary in the lecture hall, but even more so in court; that no one else compared to her, not even her brother.

“I’m Laura Hale and you can call me Laura,” she said as she opened the files. “Please sit.”

And Stiles and Allison did so immediately.

His classmates had not lied, or rather; they had not really captured Laura’s beauty, not even in the slightest. She was without a doubt, one of the most beautiful women Stiles had ever seen, and while he didn’t get around much, he had definitely seen many women in his short lifetime.

She was beautiful, not like Allison beautiful, but scary beautiful. She didn’t seem as warm as Allison did, but she didn’t seem cold either. Her face was rather inviting and her smile was bright as daylight and her eyes, wow, her eyes really made her look untouchable. If angels could weep, they would literally be weeping with fright at Laura’s overbearing beauty.

Stiles wondered not for the first time if perhaps her brother was as gorgeous as she was; if all the stories that went around campus were true too.

Stiles turned to look at Allison who was staring intently at Laura and Stiles turned slightly to inspect Laura’s office. Her office, like her, was unbelievably beautiful. It was big, the walls were painted in white and red and then there was a wall that was just glass and nothing else. The furniture looked expensive, and it was coordinated to match the color of the walls, but also black had been added to the mixture.

The room was silent, awfully so, and Stiles was beginning to feel anxious. He sighed without even thinking much of it and Laura automatically turned to look at him, but he didn’t notice her. He was still stealing glances around her office and shockingly, hoping to find any pictures of Laura’s brother, but he didn’t see any.

“I’m sorry for the wait,” she said with an impatient heavy sigh. “But Attorney Hale, Derek, my brother, was supposed to join us and I guess he won’t be coming by,” she said as she reached for phone.

Stiles nodded. And so, maybe he would get to meet Laura’s brother after all.

“Erica,” she said into the receiver. “Where’s Derek? Is he not coming?”

“Where?”

“And he’s not coming?”

She groaned. “Please send in some water,” she said before hanging up.

“I’m sorry about that,” she said to them. “But it seems Derek is not going to make it, so we will proceed without him.”

Erica walked in with two cups of water and a tea, set them down on the desk and left without a word.

Laura took a sip of her tea before she spoke again.

“Allison,” she said looking at Allison’s folder. “Your last name, it sounds familiar… why?”

Of course, that would be the first question she would be asked.

“I don’t really know,” replied Allison with a tight smile.

“Guess you don’t,” said Laura opening Stiles folder. “You are graduating next year at the top of your classes and will be one of the youngest attorneys to graduate in a while, impressive. Both of you were chosen to come internship at our law firm for your outstanding knowledge. Welcome to our firm,” she said looking up at them through long black eyelashes, “both of you, welcome.”

“Thank you,” Allison and Stiles said at the same time.

“As you may or may not know,” Laura said as she handed them each a hand book, “our law firm is one of the few that pay during internships. As such, both of you will earn eighteen dollars an hour for the first three months and then it will increase based on your abilities throughout your internship. You will be required to work at least forty hours a week and you will be required to aid your senior attorney as you are needed. Keep in mind that if you do an excellent job, at the end of your internship you will be offered a position at our firm as a junior associate.”

Stiles and Allison nodded.

That was what Stiles wanted; that’s what he had wanted for the longest time. That was the only reason why Stiles had wanted so desperately internship at this law firm.

“However,” Laura continued arching her perfect eyebrow, “you must also keep in mind that we only offer the position to one person. That means that while both of you are here on excellent references, only one of you will be getting the junior associate through your own merit,” she finished with a cold smile.

 _Fuck_ , thought Stiles as he turned slightly to look at Allison. I’m _fucked_.

Allison pursed her lips before turning to smile at Stiles.

“Well then,” continued Laura, “Allison, you will be working under my supervision and Stiles, you…” she said as she reached for her phone, “you will be working under the supervision of Derek.”

Derek.

Stiles would be working under Derek Hale.

The only male Hale left. The Hale who destroyed students during their mock trials. The Hale who was dubbed as The Sexiest Man Under the Law, by his school’s gossip law blog. He had never seen him, not because he didn’t want to or hadn’t attempted to, but because he didn’t really care. He might have Googled his name one day and then Facebooked him the next, and just now tried to look for a picture of him, but not because he cared to meet him, but because he wanted to know who he would be working with.

But, every time he searched, his sources were of no help.

There were no pictures of Derek anywhere on the internet and that for some reason bothered Stiles more than anything. And now, now he was stuck working under him when he had so desperately wanted to work under Laura, the best Attorney after her father the late Daniel Hale.

 _Perfect_.

Peachy. Just _peachy_.

“Erica,” Laura said over the intercom and Erica was there immediately.

“Yes?” Erica said opening the door.

“Take them to their cubicles; show them around and then drop Stiles off at Derek’s office and bring Allison back with you so she can help me review all my files,” Laura said as she grabbed her coat and her brief case.

“I will be right back,” she said to Erica and then turned to Allison and Stiles before she said with a small smile, “Good luck!”

And left.

/*/

Turns out, Erica is actually a really close friend of Laura and apparently Derek too. Or at least that’s what Stiles understood from what Erica was saying… well not at him per say, but to Allison.

She tried to ignore him after he requested to be called Stiles, god knows why.

She took them around the building – not all of it, because she didn’t have the time or the patience for it, but she took them around the main floor, showed them their cubicles, introduced them to Isaac Lahey, a junior associate, who had apparently been an intern two years ago and had worked under Laura’s supervision, because of course, when he was an intern, it was just him.

Isaac was tall, blond hair, fair skin, beautiful green eyes, and an impressive jaw line to match his face. He was wearing a black suit that suited him really well.

He greeted them, commented on how great working under Laura’s supervision is, wished them luck and left for court.

After that encounter, Erica dropped Stiles outside Derek’s office.

“Go on in,” she said cocking her head towards the door, “Derek’s not here yet, but he will be in just a few,” she finished turning to look at Allison.

“And you,” she said to Allison, “follow me.”

Allison nodded and then turned to Stiles, “I’ll see you in a little while,” she said to him smiling before she turned to follow Erica.

“Oh, and Stiles,” said Erica before walking away, “Don’t touch anything, Derek is very special about his office,” she said with a wicked smile and left.

Stiles mocked her smile and turned to Derek’s office.

Just for the record, Stiles was _not_ going to touch anything. Aside from what people always think about Stiles, he isn’t the type to touch anything, unless, it’s something totally and completely extraordinary and worth him touching.

He doesn’t touch anything just because he thinks it’s pretty.

It has to _really_ catch his eye.

And sometimes, not even at that!

“Ha!” said Stiles as he opened the door to Derek Hale’s office.

Derek’s office was… uh, how should Stiles put it…? Plain. Boring.

It was so not what Stiles was expecting.

Laura’s office was amazing, but Derek’s, well, Derek’s was just black. And white. With splashes of red and silver here and there.

His office was just as big as Laura’s, but the walls were all white, a black desk was set in front of the wall of windows, all the furniture was black, with a touch of white and a little bit of red here and there and Stiles could bet that that was Laura’s doing. But, really, it was all rather dull.

Still, Derek was not there and Stiles being Stiles, felt the urge to explore, see what Derek was like. So in an attempt to get to know his very absent senior, he walked over to the right wall where there were different things in a bookshelf. There was actually a picture of what Stiles guessed was the Hale family before their father passed away.

The picture had obviously been taken professionally, not like the pictures he and his dad took themselves and sent to his grandmother and the rest of their family on a yearly basis.

The Hales’ picture was beautiful, or rather, the Hales were all beautiful. _Gene pool_ , thought Stiles, _it’s all in the gene pool_. Mr. and Mrs. Hale were sitting on a goldish bench. Behind them, was a seven or eight year old girl in a red dress, and she did not look happy to be there. Then there was Laura – who still looked completely the same, only now she was older – wearing a red lased dress and had the widest, warmest smile out of the bunch.

Next to her, was who Stiles was sure was Derek. He wore a black suit like his father but where his father wore a black tie, Derek wore a burgundy one, and again Stiles thought it was all Laura’s doing. He looked rather young, they all did, Stiles figured the picture was taken when Derek was still in high school because he looked gangly, dorky even, and he was smiling. He looked rather cute and according to what he had heard from other people, Derek Hale doesn’t ever smile and he is anything but _cute_.

Next to that picture was another picture of a little girl. She was adorable and undoubtedly, Derek’s daughter.

Stiles didn’t come up with this conclusion just because the little girl had Derek’s same eyes, but because Derek has holding her in the picture and he looked like that little girl meant the world to him.

He looked happy.

“And so, maybe you are cute,” Stiles murmured as he reached for the picture, the need to touch it was suddenly so overpowering.

“Please don’t touch anything,” said a deep voice behind Stiles making him flail as he twirled to face the voice.

And there, in front of him was Derek.

And he was nothing like what he had heard.

Derek was gorgeous in an almost _unreal_ way. He was tall, buff, black hair, hazel eyes, and the scruff, the scruff, that covered his beautiful face looked so inviting. And the suit he was wearing made him look like a model from a freaking Armani catalog.

 _Fuck_.

“Who are you?” he asked as he walked over to his desk undoing his red tie in the process.

Stiles’ eyes followed the movement.

“I – I, well you see, I – ” mumbled Stiles at a loss for words as Derek unbuttoned the collar button on his shirt.

“Who _are_ –”

“He’s your intern,” said Erica as she walked in, interrupting Derek and leaving Stiles wondering how she even got in the office unnoticed.

“My intern?” Derek asked furrowing his brow and she nodded.

“But Laura always takes care of the interns.”

“So she does,” continued Erica crossing her arms. “But there are two interns this time and you get one too!”

Derek groaned.

“He’s name is Stiles, be nice,” she continued as she walked over to Derek’s desk.

“Stiles? Are you serious? Stiles?”

“So serious.”

“Yeah, hey, um pink elephant still in the room,” said Stiles waving his hands in front of him.

Derek looked at him as if he didn’t know why Stiles was still there. Like he didn’t want him there.

And for the record, it’s not like he wanted to be there either.

Erica smiled, “And so you are!”

“You can leave now, Erica,” said Derek dismissively.

“Laura wants to see you.”

He nodded in response.

“Like now.”

“She knows where my office is; tell her to come,” he said, turning his gaze to Stiles.

Stiles froze.

All he could do was gape. He lost his words at the sight of Derek’s eyes focused on his.

Stiles was falling.

Falling so deep in the sweet velvet of Derek’s face.

In the warm honey radiating from his cold eyes.

He was hitting the ground. Slowly.

No one ever truly captured Derek’s beauty –not even the pictures he had just seen, Derek was by far the most beautiful man Stiles had ever seen. He wanted to touch, he wanted to feel, he wanted so many things, he was greedy with it.

Derek arched his perfect eyebrow in Stiles’ direction.

And here was Stiles, falling apart just at the sight of his beauty.

Stiles was fucked.

So, so, so royally fucked.

“Fuck,” he whispered, “I’m _so_ fucked.”


	2. Finding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek get off on the wrong foot.
> 
> When will they not though?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am sorry for the delay, but the world cup was on and then soccer season started /it's always soccer season ಥ⌣ಥ/ and then i had a lot of work to do and well -now here we are! 
> 
> shakira is my inspiration, stiles and derek are my motivation!
> 
> i hope you enjoy (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧

 

“You've got too much of that sex appeal,  
Don't play around because I'm for real,  
You see that road isn't meant for me,  
You know I want you _amarrao_ , _aqui_.  
  
Oye papi,  
If you like it mocha,

Come get a little closer,  
And bite me en la boca.”

- _Rabiosa_ , Shakira

“Tell me, Stiles, is it?” asked Derek, not moving from his seat.  “Why are you here?”

Stiles licked his lips.

“I, uh, was,” he said burying his eyes on Derek’s mouth.  “You know, uh, was picked as one of the, uh, _hmm,_ interns.”

Derek nodded.

“But we only pick one,” he said using his index finger for emphasis.  “What happened?”

“Oh,” said Stiles scratching his head.  “Well, me and, uh, Allison are tied at the top of our class, so, yeah.”

“Allison?”

Stiles nodded, his gaze still fixed on Derek’s mouth.  God, he wanted to touch it, to lick it, to feel it everywhere on his body.

Derek sighed, leaning back on his chair.

And the thing is, that didn’t help Stiles; like, at all.

Stiles was under some kind of trance, enticed by Derek’s body.  And he had just angled himself giving Stiles more access to his neck, and, uh, yeah, it was distracting as hell.

Stiles licked his lips, yet again, a small whine escaping his throat without his permission. 

 “I’ve never had an intern,” said Derek, not bothering to disguise his lack of enthusiasm.  “Ever.”

Stiles nodded.

“So you will just have to bear with me while I figure out what it is you need to be doing other than standing by my bookshelf looking pretty.”

Stiles flushed.

He _flushed_?

He flushed.

Why was he even flushing?

He knew Derek had just meant it as an expression; but yet, he was overflowing with pleasure at the possibility of Derek finding him attractive.

If even in the slightest –the tiniest.

 _No_.

He needed water.

He need air.

He couldn’t breathe.

How was this his luck?  How was it that he ended up working with Derek and not with Laura, _his Laura_ , like he had been praying for since he started his criminal justice career? Why was it that Derek was so beautiful?  How was it that he now wanted to work under Derek in more than one way?

Stiles demanded a refund, a do-over!

He hadn’t been prepared for Derek and that is why he was not able to tell Derek that he wanted a Hale exchange.

But at the same time, he really wanted to touch Derek; even if just a little.

And after holding him, if he was able to let go, he wanted a do-over in general; he deserved to be able to face life with no shame and with a lot of dignity.

And now, here he was ashamed of himself for having these of thoughts about Derek, without even having known him for more than five minutes.

How was _this_ life?

“First thing’s first,” said Derek, pinching his nose.  “I need coffee, mind getting me some?”

 _“Uh, actually I do; I’m not here to get you your coffee,”_ Stiles thought.  _“I’m here to take over your firm!”_

“Get one for you too,” continued Derek.  “It’s going to be a long day.”

Stiles nodded.

Fine, he’d get the coffee, but only because he was getting one out of this too.  He moved slowly, one foot at a time; being cautious.  He wasn’t as graceful as Scott, but he also didn’t want to flail and fall on his first day.

 _“He can’t even get coffee, Laura.  Are you sure he’s qualified to be here?”_ he didn’t want Derek to say that. 

“Do you know what I want? Are you paying? Do you know where Starbucks is?” asked Derek just as Stiles reaches the door.

“I’ll surprise you. Yes, consider it my treat. And nope, but I’ll ask around,” replied Stiles without missing a beat.

Derek had the _nerve_ to treat him like an idiot without knowing Stiles for more than five minutes?

Stiles suddenly didn’t feel so ashamed –he felt _insulted._

If that was what Derek thought of Stiles already, he had another thing coming, because Stiles was a lot of things, but an idiot, he was not –not willingly, anyway.

“Wait,” said Derek.  “I’ll go with you.”

“What?” asked Stiles, turning and just like that, Derek was right behind him.

“Knowing Erica, she didn’t give you a tour of the whole office,” shrugged Derek.

“I can really ask around though,” said Stiles in a small voice.

Derek sighed.

“I’m sure you can, but for three and a half years, I have been getting my own coffee and asking someone else to get is a bit weird, don’t you agree.”

“So it’s not so much that you want to give me a tour or that you may be worried about me getting lost in this huge building, but you are worried about me getting your coffee order _wrong_?” asked Stiles in disbelief.

“Basically,” was all Derek said before opening the door.  “Plus, if you think about it –which you clearly haven’t –there’s no way you would get my coffee order right considering you don’t know how I like my coffee.”

 _Unbelievable,_ thought Stiles.

“Yeah, but –” begin Stiles, but Derek cut him off right away.

“You were planning on surprising me?” asked Derek and Stiles nodded in response.  “If there’s one thing I hate, Stiles, is surprises,” he continued guiding Stiles to the elevator. 

They walked in silence

Derek led Stiles through the hallways, down the corridors, and down the floors; all the while explaining in what seemed full detail where everything was and why things were placed in a certain order and why Stiles should stay away from certain offices and certain file rooms.

But, Stiles heard nothing, but the sound of Derek’s voice, that unsurprisingly, was the sexiest thing stiles had ever heard.  He wanted to hear that voice more often –preferably groaning his name, moaning it, screaming it.

He understood nothing, but the curve of Derek’s shoulder’s, the shape of his ass; and _god,_ Stiles really wanted to grab it –to hold it, to spank it.

He didn’t see anything but the stubble on Derek’s face.  The way his little nose scrunched once in a while when he spoke.  The way he scratched the back of his neck with just two fingers –delicately, just slightly; the way he greeted the employees – the women specially, who smiled a little too hard –wore a little too much make up, all to catch his attention, thought Stiles.

And before he knew it, they were crossing the lobby to the far right and back to the cafeteria where there was a Starbucks.

“Huh,” said Stiles.

“What?” asked Derek, not bothering to look at Stiles, but instead walking to make the line and Stiles followed behind.

“No, nothing,” he said.  “I just thought it was weird that there was a Starbucks inside the firm and…”

Derek crossed his arms before he spoke.  “This isn’t any firm Stiles, this is the Hale’s Firm, there’s a difference, and that is also why there’s a Starbucks.”

Stiles nodded.

And he wanted to know why if he was a Hale, the Hale, why not just cut the line?

 _It’s your Starbucks,_ thought Stiles.

“So what?” asked Derek.

“So what, what?” asked Stiles and Derek just cocked his head to the left.

“Ah, I said it out loud, okay,” he responded, reaching to run his fingers through his hair.  “Well, I just said – thought that you were going to cut the line, you know?  It’s your Starbucks,” he finished shrugging.

“It is,” sighed Derek.  “But tell me, Stiles, is being considerate of my employees a bad thing?”

“Well –”

“I don’t do it for their consideration –to them it seems like it and so it does to others, but let’s get this clear; it’s my building, it’s my Starbucks, yes, but these people –all of them –work for me.  They work so that this building can stand as tall as it does, so that the floors are of the finest marble, so that I can have the luxury to have my own Starbucks in my own building, so that we can afford to hire interns and pay them; the least I can do to contribute is: allow them to get their coffee so that my files are moved and filed on time.”

“And this is why you are Derek Hale,” said Stiles nodding and Derek rolled his eyes.

The line moved faster than what Stiles thought it would and soon Derek was asking for his black coffee, with syrup and almond milk and Stiles was getting his caramel latte.

They got their coffee and walked back to the elevator in silence.

“And now you know how I like my coffee,” said Derek as the elevator doors closed.

Stiles laughed.

“What?” asked Derek.

“I kinda figured this would be the coffee you like –black and bitter,” he replied scrunching his nose.  “But you did surprise me with the almond milk though.”

Derek sighed.

“Give me your phone,” he said and Stiles looked at him in disbelief.

But Derek just extended his hand.

Why was Derek getting his number?

Why?

Oh my _god_.

“Stiles,” said Derek in an impatient tone.  “Do you not have a phone?”

“I do,” Stiles replied a little too loud.  “I mean, doesn’t everyone?”

“I don’t care about everyone.”

Stiles reached in his pocket and pulled out his phone and placed it in Derek’s opened palm.

“I work out of the office a lot,” explained Derek as he opened Stiles’ phone.  “And I will more likely than not ask you to meet me at different times because my schedule is a bit difficult and sometimes I will work directly from home and while I have the office number and I’m sure that you will pick up when you are there –I want to make sure that you pick up when I need you.

“Know that if you do not pick up my phone calls I will consider firing you.  I will never be calling you for my amusement, I will be calling you because I need you to do something and no matter how small it may be –it is important and you are to do it immediately.

“And also know that you are not to call me under any circumstance or reason –I will not pick up, unless I am expecting your call,” he finished returning Stiles his phone.

“Uh,” said Stiles.  “What if I have a question?”

“There are plenty of books in the law library that will be of great help to you,” replied Derek without missing a beat. 

“But, what if I _really_ need your help?”

Derek sighed. Again.

“What if it’s an _emergency_?”

“Then text me and I will get back to you as soon as I see it,” replied Derek as the elevator made it to their floor.

Stiles crossed his arms in aggravation.

He thought it was unacceptable that Derek come off as the biggest asshole in the history of assholes –and let’s face it, Stiles has encountered different assholes throughout his life –but for Derek to be the biggest so far.

He huffed before following Derek back to his office.

“Why are you following me?” asked Derek, as soon as they were back in his office.

“You tell me!” replied Stiles and Derek arched his eyebrow.  “Sorry.”

Derek sat at his desk and looked at Stiles and Stiles…

Stiles froze.

He looked back at Derek –but where Derek was getting frustrated, Stiles was getting aggravated.

Stiles wanted to learn –to get to work, he was anxious for it; he had dreamt about this for the longest time, since he was a little child, and now, now he had the opportunity to be what he had always wanted to be: a great attorney.  But he felt as if by being with Derek –by being assigned to work with Derek, he was going to lose his opportunity to be great.

He had wanted to work under Laura’s supervision because Laura was a true, complete and utter legend already –she was the best there was and Stiles had read every article there was to ever read about her.  He updated his blog –which was very much a Laura shrine –on the regular and all his posts, all his blog, was based on Laura’s successful trials and how she had inspired other attorneys.

She had written three books already and Stiles had read them several different times and every time, he wondered if he could ever be as great as she was or if he could at least be half of what she was.

Laura won every trial there was to win.

Laura reached pleas that Stiles didn’t even know were possible to reach.

And Stiles wanted to learn _how_.

But instead, he got Derek Hale, who was more passionate about teaching than winning trials.

He did great in court, he did; but, based on what Stiles would read, he was always lacking.

And Stiles really wanted to be an attorney.

And Derek, for some reason, Stiles thought, didn’t want to be an attorney; he didn’t lack the knowledge, but he lacked the passion for it.

Stiles understood how that could happen.

But at the same time, if Derek didn’t really wanted to be an attorney, then why was he still there?

He couldn’t understand that part.

/*/

“I’ll tell you what, Stiles,” said Derek grabbing his briefcase.  “There are fifteen new files that came in yesterday.  Prepare them.”

Stiles gaped.

“All fifteen of them,” said Derek as he walked out the door.

“Wait,” said Stiles, following behind him.  “How am I supposed to prepare them?”

“They are new, Stiles.  Create the file for each in our drive, prepare the entries and necessary motions, calendar the court dates, and leave them on my desk for approval,” replied Derek not turning back.

Derek always thought it unfair to do that to a person, to leave them out there to learn on their own, to struggle, but for some reason; Derek wanted to teach Stiles this very important lesson.

What was the lesson?

Not to annoy Derek, of course.

“Derek,” called his sister from behind him and Derek walked faster.

“Derek,” she called louder and Derek ran to the elevator.

The mission, after last night’s talk, was to avoid his sister at all costs.

But, as luck would never have it his way –because why would it, it’s him after all – the elevator was taking its time to make it to his floor and Laura got to him before the elevator did.

“Jackass,” she said, coming to stand next to him.

“Why, hello, I am well, and yourself?” he said sarcastically as the elevator made it to his floor.  “Well, I will be seeing you around.”

He got in the elevator but so did Laura and at the sight of the both of them in the elevator, the other people quickly ran out.

“As expected,” said Derek.  “You scare everyone.”

“Scaring everyone is better than avoiding them, don’t you think?” she asked, not turning to look at him.

And Derek didn’t respond.

“Why didn’t you come see me at my office?” she asked.

“Because you know where mine is,” he replied.

“It’s important,” she said.

“I’m sure it is, but _tell_ me this: why do I have to have an intern?”

“Because we have two interns this time; did Ericka not tell you?”

“She did, but I figured I could still ask you to keep him.”

Laura smiled.

“Trust me little brother, you do _not_ want my intern,” she said and her smile faded right away.

“Why, is she too pretty?”

Laura didn’t respond.

“Too ugly?”

No response.

“Too good and that’s why you wanna keep her?”

“No,” replied Laura, with a small smile.  “It will be easier for you to work with Stilinski.”

“I really doubt it, Laura,” he told her. 

They made it to the lobby and Laura grabbed on to his arm, stopping him from moving.  She pressed the emergency stop button and the doors didn’t open.

“What is it?” asked Derek.

“Derek,” said Laura.  “If I knew something important about my intern, should I tell you about it?”

“Like what?” he asked turning to look at her.

But Laura didn’t respond.

“Like what, Laura?”

She shook her head and then smiled at him.

“I think she’s dating the other intern and you know, we do not encourage employees hooking up with other employees, so, what should we do about that?” she asked with a small smile.

And Derek knew she was lying.

Derek knew that wasn’t the important thing that Laura wanted to say.

He knew that she was hiding something from him, but he knew better than to pressure her –she would tell him once she was ready.

“Are you telling me this so that I do not try to hook up with her?”

And Laura nodded.

“But you do know I could just hook up with Stiles, right?”

“Wait, who’s Stiles?” asked Laura.

“My intern,” said Derek.  “He wants to be called _Stiles_.”

“Really?”

He nodded in response as the elevator doors opened and he stepped out.

“Derek,” said Laura and Derek turned to her.  “The name doesn’t matter –he will do good things; he will be great, I can feel it and you are really lucky to have him.”

Derek wanted to protest.

Just how, how, was it that Derek was lucky to have Stiles?

But before he could ask, the doors closed and Laura was no longer there.

Derek got in his black Range Rover, he preferred the small cars –he used to have a Camaro, but after Soph was born, he needed a car with more room and well, he wasn’t about to drive a minivan.

He drove to pick up Soph from school; it was a bit early, but he really didn’t care.

“Hey hun,” he said as soon as he saw her in the arms of her teacher.

“Mr. Hale,” said Ms. Yukimura.  “I’m glad you’re here early, I was starting to consider calling you.”

“Why?  Is something wrong?” he asked as he reached for his daughter.

“Kaitlyn has been really fuzzy the whole day and she fell asleep during story time,” she replied releasing Soph to him.  “I think she’s coming down with the flu.”

He cradled Soph against his chest and rested his chin on top of her curly hair.

“She does feel a bit warm,” he said, not looking at Ms. Yukimura.

“I think it be best if she didn’t come to school tomorrow if she feels this down –she might get the other children sick,” she said reaching to pat the sleeping toddler on the back.

“Yeah,” he replied backing up.  “I understand; thank you.”

And he walked out the school all the while rubbing Soph’s back gently.

Derek hated Soph getting sick –not because she got extremely fuzzy or because it was harder to take care of her when she was sick –but he hated having to give her bitter medicine; he hated her not being able to sleep because of the high fever.

He hated her struggling to breathe; he hated seeing her get sad because she couldn’t eat her favorite foods, he hated her laying on the coach and not wanting to get up and play, he hated her need to sleep more than eat, but most of all, he hated not being able to do anything for her other than give her more medicine and carry her around trying to soothe her.

He took her back to his car all the while talking to her –but she didn’t respond, she didn’t even move and Derek felt hopeless.

They drove back home in silence and Soph continued to sleep in the back of the car, he didn’t have to turn on Mickey’s Houseclub for her today –and he kinda missed it.

His phone vibrated several times as he drove home –but he paid no attention to it; all he wanted was to get home so that he could hold his daughter in his arms again.

And it vibrated again as he made it back to his apartment, but again he ignored it.

He put Soph in her bed and then he got out of his suit and put on a pair of jeans and a long sleeve black shirt and went to the kitchen to cook some chicken soup for Soph to eat once she woke up.

As he cooked the pasta, his phone vibrated again and he ignored it focusing on peeling and cutting the carrots and the potatoes and the green beans.  He focused on boiling the chicken, making sure to add garlic and onion for flavor.  And he focused on adding star shaped pasta for Soph to eat.

His phone went off again, five times in a row and he ignored it again focusing on stirring the pan and all its condiments and adding salt.  Before he knew it; his chicken soup was ready and Soph was walking in the kitchen rubbing her left eye with one hand and holing Mr. Fluffy Puffy, her stuffed bear, in the other.

“Soph,” he said picking her up.  “How you feeling baby?”

“’am tired,” she replied yawning.

“You are?” he asked her rubbing her back.  “But you just slept for two whole hours.”

She shook her head and buried her face in the crook of Derek’s neck and Derek smiled. 

“How about a bath?” he asked her and she nodded.

Derek turned off the stove and took her to the restroom, drew a warm bath and then set to work.  Soph loved bathing.  She loved playing in the water, running her tiny fingers through the bubbles and drowning her ship and then rescuing it.  She loved pretending she was a mermaid that was free in the ocean and Derek loved watching her splash around all the while singing to her favorite songs from Pandora’s Disney Radio Station.

But today, she didn’t love anything.

She sat in the water eyes half closed, no splashing, no singing; and Derek really hated it.

He bathed her quickly, took her out, put on her pajamas and took her back to the kitchen to feed her dinner.

Soph took a whole hour just to eat one small bowl of soup.

He gave her some cherry flavor medicine and then they sat on the couch to watch Tangled.  She fell asleep right when Rapunzel was finally about to see the floating lights and Derek felt very sad about it –he knew it was Soph’s favorite part.

That night, he tucked her in bed one hour earlier than usual.  He checked her temperature to make sure she wasn’t running a fever and then turned on the night camera so that he could not only listen to her, but also watch her as she slept.

He changed into his workout clothes and got on the treadmill.

Derek ran and ran and ran as hard as he could as fast as his legs allowed him.  He ran until his shirt was drenched in sweat and until he could no longer think.  He ran until he felt as if his heart was trying to escape his chest.

And he ran.

He ran.

And ran.

As he did, he found himself thinking about one thing: Stiles.

He wondered if he had prepared all the motions Derek asked for –or rather, if he had prepared all the motions Derek had written down on his notes.

He wondered if Stiles had struggled to complete the motions and how many times he had cursed Derek and he laughed.

He had probably called Derek and texted him and complained to the other intern.

Derek could already hear him say: _He’s an asshole!_

And he found it funny.

He found himself coming to a stop as he thought of the boy buried in his desk, pencil in his mouth, one hand on a book and the other on the keyboard and Derek laughed at the thought.

Derek showered and changed and then he checked his phone and just as he had thought, he had five missed calls and more than twenty text messages.

He laughed.

He had three texts from Ericka, two from Laura and the rest were from Stiles.

He read Ericka’s texts first:

_Hey, is it okay if I come in late tomorrow?_

_Okay, since you didn’t respond, I am coming in at 11 tomorrow. I have a doctor’s appointment._  

_Don’t say I didn’t tell you I was coming in late. Later!_

He sighed and replied with: _Okay._

Then he read Laura’s:

_Want to have dinner tonight?_

_I guess not. Call me when you get a chance._

He replied to her with: _Sorry. Soph is sick and you know how she gets when she’s sick. I’m about to sleep –so I will call you in the morning._

He read Stiles’ texts last:

_So, I know you told me not to call you –but you said I could text you._

_Can you tell me where the files are?  And what labels do you want me to use?_

_Oh, and how do you prefer the labels? I asked Ericka, but she told me you preferred them in a different order?_

_Okay, so I just called you –but only because I don’t know how to access your drive. Can you tell me your password?_

_I can’t create a new file unless I can access your drive._

_Nevermind. I am using Isaac’s._

_Wait. How do I plea it? I know it has this first: COMES NOW, DEREK HALE, who enters his appearance as counsel for BLAH BLAH, but from there do I just put your name in the service part?_

_Like, do I put the whole firm’s information or just yours?_

_Ah, yeah, so apparently, Isaac says I do put down the firm’s information but only yours in the signature._

_Your bar # is weird._

_I called you again. Please pick up._

_There is some lady on the phone, her name is Malia something –she says she’s your cousin?  And she asked me for your cell, should I give it to her?_

_She called again and wants me to tell you she needs you to call her back –she says it’s an emergency._

_Okay, I am preparing the Motions to Supress and the Motions for Discovery, but not all the cases are the same and some of the stuff requested on the possession for marijuana are not the same as for the DUI or do I just change the language?_

_Do I just replace the marijuana with the DUI? Or is there some specific motion?_

_I looked at the code, but the code section is the same or am I not looking at the right code?_

_Isaac says that the motions are different because the possession for marijuana case will go to superior court and the DUI will stay in state._

_Hey I don’t know if you’re busy, but a woman just called.  She says you are handling her husband’s trafficking case and that you told her you would be visiting him at the jail this past weekend and that you didn’t do it.  She says her husband just told her you didn’t go._

_She is really mad. She wants an appointment to see you immediately, when are you free? I can’t open Outlook?_

_She went off on me because I couldn’t tell her when you would be able to see her._

_She will call again tomorrow._

_I am leaving for today. I don’t know what time you will be coming tomorrow, but I left the files on your desk. The only one I didn’t get to prepare is the TPO case.  I ran out of time._

Derek sighed.

God, he was a bad attorney.

He felt bad, he really did.

He had always known he was a bad Attorney –he knew he was extremely lacking on that perspective, he got shit done, he did, but it took him effort.  He managed to plea almost all of his cases without taking them to trial, and he honestly didn’t want to take them to trial –not only because he would probably lose, but because he didn’t want to fail his clients.

However, right now, he realized, he was failing.

Derek found that not only was he feeling bad towards his clients, but he also found himself feeling sorry towards Stiles because he had to figure out all of what he did on his own.

Isaac helped, yes, but Isaac wasn’t the ideal person to help Stiles at this moment, not when Isaac was just starting too and he spent most of his days asking Derek and the other associates for guidance.

He texted Stiles after debating about it for half an hour and all he could think of was:

_Did you figure it out?_

To which Stiles responded with:

_Not with your help._

Derek felt bad.

Something in him felt the need to excuse himself –to excuse his behavior.

_Sorry._

Stiles took five whole minutes, 300 seconds, before he responded.  And he only responded with:

_Yeah. Me too. See you tomorrow._

And Derek…

Derek wanted to keep going.

He found himself wanting to know how much Stiles had struggled and how it was that he came to the conclusion that asking Isaac was his best option?  How had Isaac become his only option?

And he also wanted him to know that he wasn’t so bad; that he hadn’t done it on purpose –okay, maybe he had, but he had not thought that Stiles would struggle that much.

He didn’t think about providing Stiles with samples to the motions or what order he preferred his files.  He forgot to explain how his outlook worked, the coordination of it –explain who and what was going on with his cases and how he could find them and their notes and he forgot to tell him about his cousin.

Derek felt bad.

 _Not going to the office tomorrow,_ he typed –but didn’t click send.

Somehow, some part of him didn’t want to upset his intern further.

Derek found himself staring at the screen and nothing else.

He fell asleep to the sound of Soph’s small snores through the camera.

He fell asleep.

He fell.

And as he did, he found himself dreaming of Kate again.

He dreamt of the night he met her –but they were at a different bar and Kate was wearing different clothes, different perfume and as she approached him, he didn’t get up to leave like he had hoped, like he had told himself to do every time he had the same dream.  Instead, he did what he always did; let her come to his side.  He let her talk in his ear; he let her run her cold fingers through his hair, down his neck and up his shirt.

 Only this time, his phone kept going off none stop, one text after another, one call after the other and it went off and off as Kate tried to seduce him again, as she tried to lick his neck –his phone went off.

And he found himself doing the unexpected, the unplanned –the one thing he had never done before.

He reached in his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Derek found himself wanting to grab the phone and respond –to reply to all the incoming messages from a very confused, very frustrated Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that was that /claps/
> 
> you will be happy to know that ch. 3 is almost finished and it should be up this weekend -unless the soccer players continue to take part of the ice bucket challenge -I CRY- when will it be over ( 　ﾟ,_ゝﾟ)
> 
> thank you for reading C:


	3. Looking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles hates Derek.
> 
> But Derek hates falling for Stiles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> beyonce disrespected me and that is why this took longer (ι´Д｀)ﾉ
> 
> i am falling in love with this more and more and i hope that you are too.
> 
> enjoy (✿◠‿◠)

“My one desire, all I aspire,  
Is in your eyes forever to live,  
Traveled all over the seven oceans,  
There is nothing that I wouldn't give,  
Came from Bahrein, got to Beirut,  
Looking for someone comparing to you,  
Tearing down windows and doors,  
And I could not find eyes like yours.”

– _Eyes Like Yours,_ Shakira

 

“Are you still upset?” asked Scott as he and Stiles were having dinner over Skype. 

Stiles wasn’t upset –he was pissed; _no_ , he was beyond pissed.

He had met Derek on Monday and he hadn’t heard from him or seen him since and today was Thursday.

Derek left him a bunch of files to prepare on his own and he had tried to complete them, but he couldn’t; he couldn’t even get into his drive and Derek never responded to any of his texts or phone calls and the only person that was willing to help him was Isaac.

But Isaac didn’t know as much and they were both struggling. 

So Isaac said he would help Stiles prepare all of his pleadings for all of Derek’s files as long as Stiles helped him prepare for trial.  Why Stiles had agreed, was beyond him.

“Yes,” replied Stiles biting into his slice of pizza.

“And he hasn’t gone to the office yet?” asked Scott in between bites of his.

“Nah.”

“What a douche,” said Scott getting some fries and Stiles smiled.

He knew that Scott didn’t quite understand just why Stiles was pissed –but he understood that he was to some extent, just like Stiles sometimes didn’t understand why Scott was upset about not being able to play the full game. 

They both just appreciated the sentiment and the love they felt for one another –they were brothers after all.

“Fuck him,” said Stiles getting some fries. “Are you ready for the game?”

Scott nodded in response.

“And the rest?”

“Jackson’s been acting up a bit –‘is weird.”

“How?”

Scott shook his head.

“He’s just weird.”

Stiles nodded not understanding.

He had seeing Jackson plenty of times at practices and at the games and every time, he had something to say to Stiles about sucking Scott’s dick or about getting him a sandwhich and Stiles had always responded by asking if he wanted him to teach his girlfriend a few techniques –it had grown into a thing.

But he couldn’t imagine how he was acting strange –it kind of made no sense.

“The twins?” he asked.

“You know how it is,” said Scott putting away the pizza box.  “Ethan is alright; Aiden keeps jabbing at Jackson and since Ethan is dating Danny and you know how Danny is Jackson’s best friend –and well, it’s turned into this big drama and not necessarily over the ball.”

Stiles laughed.

“They both want the man of the match title at the end of each game and if one of them gets it, the other won’t stop jabbing at the other; and if someone else gets it, they can’t fucking stop arguing how it was the other’s fault –it’s ridiculous,” continued Scott.

And Stiles nodded pulling out his book.

“And you know how I told you that there were rumors about coach Finstock retiring early?” he asked.

And again, Stiles nodded in response.

“He’s not,” Scott said.

“Oh, that’s good, yeah?” asked Stiles reaching for his phone.

“No,” said Scott rearranging himself.  “Jackson says he’s being fired.”

“During transfer window?”

And Scott nodded.

“Why?” asked Stiles. 

It made no sense. 

Finstock had being in charge of the club since Scott had just been a junior trainee; why would they replace the man who had won so many titles for the club?

“I don’t know,” replied Scott yawning.

It was only seven forty-five and Scott was already tired.

Stiles sighed.

“I need to hit the sack, bro,” said Scott.  “I have to get up extra early tomorrow.”

“Why? You already wake up before seven!”

“I have a physical –checking on my knee again.”

“Oh,” said Stiles, remembering how two years ago Scott had injured his left knee just as he was about to score in an international friendly match against Germany.  He had to be taken to the emergency room and was forced to not play for the rest of the season and to this date; the injury still bothered him almost as much as not being able to lead the team into the championship.

It had been a really hard time for Scott.

It still was.

“Text me letting me know what they say,” was all he said and Scott nodded.

“Good luck tomorrow,” said Scott.  “See you this weekend.”

And just like that, Stiles was left to do his college paper for one of the cases handed out by Professor Deaton. 

Every other week, as “extra credit,” – and yes, the quotations needed to be mentally added every time Stiles thought about it because he never saw the extra credit on his final grade – Professor Deaton assigned a trial paper to the class. 

There were always only three options: civil litigation, domestic civil and criminal.

Stiles tended to chose the domestic civil cases –he couldn’t really explain it when he was asked about it, but the domestic cases always jumped at him.  They always grabbed his attention like nothing else did, and granted, some of the criminal cases weren’t always that good to begin with and the client was always one of two things: guilty or not guilty.

The domestic cases were different.

It wasn’t about choosing whether or not the other person was guilty –it was more about learning the story behind the case.  It was about providing the best parenting plan for the children, the proper child support, dividing the assets how they were legally supposed to be divided –and for that, you had to really dig into the financial documents through the discovery process and look at the income taxes for the past years, look at the bank records, look at the credit card records, ask for proof of retirement plans, money market accounts, life insurance, submit third party requests for the employers and sometimes even the banks –it was hard, Stiles knew; but he really enjoyed the process.

Still, the cases for this week were actually all worth his time and he hadn’t really decided as to what case he should take; so, he decided to text Allison.

_You awake?_

And she responded almost immediately.

_Yes. Why?_

He smiled; she was probably doing her paper as well.

_Have you decided what case you’re taking this week?_

Allison tended to take the criminal cases –she was very intense when it came to maintaining that even though the defendant was guilty, he _wasn’t_ guilty.  And he understood, of course.

_Yes. I am taking the child support case._

And Stiles was shocked –she barely took those domestic cases.

_Really?  Why?_

Stiles waited for her to respond, but she never replied.

He looked at the cases again.

The criminal was a battery third degree.  The husband assaulted the wife and she decided to call the police; he was arrested and because he was undocumented, a hold for another agency was placed; in his case, a hold for Immigration Customs and Enforcement (ICE).  The wife later decided to “withdraw the charges” –but, it wasn’t possible.

Stiles knew that what needed to be done was get rid of the charge or at the very minimum, reduce it so as to not make the defendant deportable –but, he hated the baby-mama drama.

The civil litigation was very time consuming.  There were turnkey services that were provided to an apartment complex, but were never paid for.  The plaintiff tried to collect on the account for one whole year, but he was never paid.  At the end of the year, the apartment complex was sold and the agencies were changed. 

Stiles knew that what needed to be done was collect –services were rendered, and they needed to be paid for regardless of who now owns the apartment complex.  The _how_ was what was going to be difficult.

The domestic civil case was a big fat mess and he really, really, loved it.

The parties were divorced five years ago and had three children.  As part of the decree, the husband was awarded $900, in child support to be paid to the wife per month.  The father failed to make timely and full payments and at some point, there was a contempt action brought through Child Support Services for his failure to pay and an order was entered against the father, in which he needed to continue to pay the $900 in child support, plus an additional $300, per month to be applied to the arrears.

However, when this was going on, the oldest child aged out of the child support age responsibility.  After two years, the middle child aged out –but the father was still being ordered to pay the $900 in child support, even though it was only for one child.

Stiles knew that what needed to be done, what should have been done as soon as the oldest child aged out, was a modification because he had learned about this in a seminar last spring –but the problem was that because a modification was never done and the father never paid his child support in full because of his decrease in income, he had accumulated a total of $38,000 in child support arrears –according to the wife, anyway.

It was messy. 

It was difficult.

But Stiles really wanted to do it.

He had his case, now all he needed was to write it.

He took a shower and got in bed because he had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be just as crazy as today had been.  And he also had a feeling that Derek would not be going to the office again –and honestly, Stiles didn’t know how to feel about that.

His internship required him to engage in as much as possible –to learn, to assist, and to try at least one case under the supervision of his senior attorney.  And at the rate he was going, under the supervision of Derek, he was really beginning to doubt that he would be able to complete the internship successfully, and be offered a junior associate position at the Hale’s Firm.

Stiles sighed.

He grabbed his phone and decided to call his dad –but then changed his mind because he was on his second honey moon with Scott’s mom and well, Stiles really didn’t want to disturb anything that might be taking place in Cancun, Mexico.

He shuttered at the thought.

Instead, he texted Isaac.

_When did you say you wanted me to help you?_

To which Isaac responded with:

_Whenever Derek doesn’t need you – the trial is not until the end of the month, so maybe sometime next week._

And well, Stiles didn’t know how much Derek would need him or if he ever would need him but he was really hoping to be able to help Isaac in some kind of way.

And he had also been looking for ways to find out why Derek hadn’t been at the office –it couldn’t be just because he didn’t want to go; that would be ridiculous!

It had to be something like him being sick or him having to make an emergency trip for something important.

Cases kept coming in; people kept calling to make appointments –not with an associate, many wanted to see Derek or Laura, but Laura had just started a theft by deception case and she had been out of the office and in court for the past two days.

The stack of documents that Derek needed to review kept growing and Stiles was starting to get anxious about them –some of them were time sensitive, okay? He knew about that because Kira, the supervising paralegal, had taught him how to calendar dates and how to prepare announcements for the Calendar Call Calendars –but the only thing missing for the announcements, were Derek’s announcements.

Stiles looked at his phone again.

Maybe he should text Derek –see if he’s going to be at the office tomorrow.

But he didn’t know what to say: _You should really come by your office tomorrow._

_There are a lot of files that need your review._

_There are a lot of people that want to talk to you._

_So, maybe you could, I don’t know –show up for work tomorrow?_

He didn’t know what to say or if he should even say something to begin with.

Stiles went to the messages on his phone and typed:

_Any chance I’ll get to see you tomorrow?_

But he didn’t click send.

Derek wouldn’t reply anyway.

Instead, he opened Netflix and played the avengers for the third time this week –maybe today, he could watch it without thinking about seeing Derek tomorrow.

Maybe tomorrow, if Derek did in fact show up at the office, he would be able to look at Derek in the eye and tell him he wanted him to send him back to Laura.

He kept thinking about how he would ask Derek to allow him to go work under Laura’s supervision and he wondered if Laura would agree to supervise both, him and Allison; because he wanted to work with Laura really bad, but he also didn’t want Allison to end up working with Derek either because that would make Stiles a real asshole.

He fell asleep before he even realized it.

He had the same dream he had had for the past three days –he was working out of his father’s basement.

/*/  

“Are you hungry, Soph,” Derek asked his daughter who had been sick for the past three days, but today, she had woken up with no fever, no cough and with only a bit of mucus.

Derek counted it as a win.

He had been out of the office for three days, making this his fourth and he was beyond stressed.  He even asked Laura to send Erica with his files so that he could review them , sign them and have them ready for filing on Monday.

He also needed to look at his calendar for next week and _God_ , he was so behind.

“Pancakes,” Soph cheered.  “I want pancakes!”

Derek nodded picking her up.

“Well then pancakes it is,” he said kissing her cheek, but she pushed him away.

“With chocolate!”

And again Derek nodded.

It was late to be eating pancakes, but Soph was finally able to sleep soundly last night and she had slept for 14 hours straight and Derek did try to wake her up at different times, but Derek had had no luck.  He understood that what Soph really needed at last night was sleep.

Derek made the pancakes and Soph watched _Sophia the First_.

He finished at record speed and went to get Soph so that she could help set the table.

He picked her up to take her to the dining room and she didn’t protest –but, she also didn’t let Derek kiss her again.  And while Derek respected his daughter’s space, his feelings were hurt every time she pushed him away –but, he acted as if nothing and cradled her against his chest.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing her back and she nodded in response.

“Does anything hur –” he began, but was interrupted by the doorbell and he scrunched his eyebrows.

It rang once.

Then again.

And again.

“Erica,” he yelled as he walked over to the door, Soph still buried against his chest.

“ _Seriously_ ,” he said as he opened the door.  “Why didn’t you –”

But he didn’t finish.

It wasn’t Erica.

Not unless Erica had turned into a slender, good looking, _very_ good looking Stiles.

“Hey,” said Stiles, raising his hand, palm up, to emphasize his greeting.

“Stiles, what are _you_ doing here?” he asked in a hard tone.

“I –Laura,” he begin.  “I really wished she would have called you to tell you I was coming –she sent me! And she didn’t tell you I was coming and now you are surprised –mad maybe, are you mad because I am right outside your home? I’m sorry if you are –but Laura, aha, yeah, so she, uh, asked me to come and bring some stuff and some things that, you, uh, were gonna – _are_ gonna –use so, here they are, all in this brief case that I am carrying and that is heavy because it has a lot of things and stuff that you are going to need and you, uhaha, you are not –”

“Stiles, stop!”  exclaimed Derek and Soph left his neck and turn to look at Stiles.

“Right,” said Stiles pursing his lips and he took two steps forward, extending right hand. “Hello there, you –”

“No,” interrupted Derek moving Soph out of sight and Stiles dropped his hand.

“Sorry,” sighed Stiles and Derek closed his eyes.

How was this his life.

_How?_

“Are you going to make me wait here while you review all of this?” he asked bouncing the briefcase.

Derek sighed, rubbing Soph’s back, trying to push her under his neck –but she refused, instead, she stared straight at Stiles.

“Fine,” said Derek through gritted teeth.  “Come in.”

Stiles followed behind Derek and his daughter continued to stare at him in wonder –it was as if she was amazed by his presence.

“I was just about to feed Soph breakfast,” said Derek as he sat the toodler in her high chair, but as soon as he did, she whined.

“Want me to hold her while you prepare it for her,” asked Stiles as he placed the briefcase on the chair and Derek stared at him in amazement. 

How could he ask that?

“No,” said Derek, walking around the table.  “She will stop in a minute.”

Stiles nodded and Derek walked to his kitchen.

He tried to hurry, to get a stack of pancakes, the utensils and the milk all in one go; he didn’t want to leave Soph with Stiles at all.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust him –no, it _was_ that he didn’t trust him; he just me him less than four days ago –of course, he didn’t trust him.

As he made his way to the dining room, he heard Soph giggling and he quickened his pace.

“What –” he begin and stopped as soon as he saw Stiles’ take his hands away from his face and go “Boo.” And Soph giggled again.

Then she covered her own face and uncovered it almost immediately and said, “A-boo,” and Stiles pretended to jump as if she had scared him and she giggled.

And Derek didn’t know what to say to that.

Stiles made his daughter giggle in less than three minutes and he didn’t appreciate it.

“Soph,” he said as he approached her and placed the plate and the cup in front of her.  “Your breakfast is served.”

He patted her on the head lightly willing her attention to focus on her food – on her very yummy chocolate chip pancakes that she had requested and that he had just prepared.

He opened the briefcase and Stiles was not joking –the briefcase was heavy.  Stiles stared at him as he pulled one file at a time –he stared at Derek’s face, and he felt himself blush.

Derek felt warm in a lot of different places and he didn’t appreciate it one bit.

Stiles was attractive – _very_ attractive; it was almost unreal and it made Derek very uncomfortable.

It was weird on its own that he had been thinking about poor Stiles in the office struggling to get work done and Derek not being able to be there to coach him on –because, first of all: why was he even worried about him when he had _never_ wanted to coach anyone on? Second: why was he invested in Stiles’ feelings of anxiety? Third: why couldn’t he just simply ask Stiles to leave?

He hated having all these concerns about an intern who he had only just met.

Derek had even looked into the whole internship thing while he had been at his house for the past few days and it turns out that Stiles literally had to follow him around everywhere he went. If he was at the office, Stiles had to be in his office; if he went to court, Stiles had to go with him; if he went to the jail to interview his clients, Stiles had to go with him –hell, if Derek went to any out of the office meeting, Stiles had to go along.

He hated company –he always had; but now, he was being forced to keep company.

And he hated it.

He hated having gotten someone as distracting as Stiles.

And Stiles was distracting as hell.

Just now, Derek wanted to put the file down and stare at Stiles –hear his frantic, nervous voice, look at his face more closely and memorize it a bit, memorize the shape of his mouth –that he couldn’t keep closed, and those lips –Derek wondered not for the first time, if they would be soft against his.

He shook his head and got another file.

Derek hated to admit that Stiles’ pink lips begged to be kissed –his body needed to be held and Derek needed to stop.  He needed to stop thinking about touching his lips and he needed to focus on the current file in front of him.

He needed to stop stealing glances at Stiles who was now holding Soph’s fork and feeding her.

And wait – _what_?

“What are you doing?” asked Derek as Stiles reached for another batch of pancakes.

“Uh, she handed me the fork,” he responded putting more food in her mouth not looking at him and Soph smiled and he smiled back at her and Derek needed to get Stiles out of his house.

“Soph, you know how to eat on your own,” he said reaching for the fork.

“No!” she screamed.  “’Tiles’ feeding me! No, daddy, NO!”

And Derek was shocked.

His daughter never screamed at him. _Never_.

And now the reason she was screaming was because she wanted Stiles to feed her?

Derek was a little hurt.

“Soph,” he said in a hard tone.  “We do not scream at the dinner table.  We do not scream at daddy. We do not scream.”

And Soph pouted.

“Uh,” said Stiles.  “Here Soph,” he continued giving her back the fork, “you can do it yourself, right? You’re a big girl –I’ll help you when you struggle, okay?”

And Soph nodded taking the fork in her right hand.

“Cut,” she said to Stiles and Stiles did just that: he cut a piece of the pancake for her; she used the fork and put some in her mouth.

 _Unbelievable,_ thought Derek.  _My daughter, who is very peculiar with the company she keeps, likes Stiles._

_Stiles?_

Derek closed the file and put it to the side, along with the rest.

“Stiles,” he said as Stiles cut another piece.

“Yes?”

“I am going to get some pancakes,” he said getting up.  “Want some?”

And Stiles just stared at him.

“Yes or no?”

“Uh, no, thank you,” he said reaching for Soph’s glass of milk.

And Derek followed the movement, paying close attention as he handed her the glass and she shook her head “no” and he shook his head “yes” and she shook her head “no” again and he just stared at her for a blank second holding out the cup of milk and she sighed, giving in and took the glass in her small hands and he smiled at her and she smiled back before taking a sip.

 _Amazing,_ thought Derek as he walked to the kitchen.

He grabbed a platter and got two sets of plates, cups, forks and knives along with a stack of pancakes and went back to the dining room, where Stiles was still helping Soph finish her breakfast.  He placed the platter on the table and went back to the kitchen to get coffee and then back to the dining room.  He handed Stiles a plate with pancakes and a cup of coffee and got some for himself as well.

“Okay,” said Stiles.  “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” replied Derek adding almond milk to his coffee.  “Only, I don’t have any caramel for your coffee or any creamer for that matter so, you will just have to use some of the almond milk.

“Ha,” said Stiles and Soph repeated after him, spitting some of her food on herself.

“Soph!” exclaimed Derek.

“I got it,” said Stiles, reaching for a napkin to help Soph clean herself up.

“No,” said Derek getting up from his seat.  “I got it.”

“I’m done, so…” said Stiles and yes, he was done cleaning the mess.

Derek sat back down and begin to cut through his pancakes.

He watched as Stiles finished helping Soph eat, he continued to cut and she continued to bite –after a couple of bites, he handed her the cup of milk and she took it almost automatically; she smiled at him after every sip and he smiled back at her and Derek realized for the first time that he might just have found a great babysitter!

Looking at the way Stiles dealt with Soph, he wondered if Stiles had any young siblings –if Stiles had a little brother he helped take care of or if maybe he babysat on his spare time or if, like Derek, he was a dad himself.

“You’re good with kids,” Derek said taking a sip of his coffee.

“Yeah,” said Stiles.  “Kids gravitate towards me, I don’t know why, but I kinda like it, you know?”

Derek shook his head “no.”

“Guess you don’t,” said Stiles shrugging.  “Okay, Kato, you are all done!”

“Kato?” asked Derek at the same time that Soph said. “’Tiles, le’s watch TV!”

“Oh, I don’t know about that, Kato, I have work to do with your dad,” he said getting up and taking her out of her seat, without even bothering to ask Derek if it was okay.

And the thing was –it _was_ okay.

Derek looked at Stiles and at the way he gracefully took Soph out of her high chair; the way held her briefly before setting her down; the way he ruffled her hair a bit and she smiled, reaching to hold his hand.

He looked at him, really looked at him, and realized that Stiles was just as young as he had been when he fell in love with Kate –to him it had begin to feel like it had been a really long time ago, but looking at Stiles now, it had only been five years ago; and yet, Stiles looked so different from him.

At that age, Derek was a mess between trying to graduate at the top of his class and trying to help Laura run the firm as best he could and trying to mend his relationship with his mother.  He was a disaster trying to cope with his life –with the decision to become an attorney and not a professor like he had wanted to, and he realized that because he was a mess at that age, he fell for Kate.

When he looked back at it, and he had –many times, he came to the conclusion that because he felt lonely, that because he was lonely, he fell for Kate so easily.  He didn’t bother trying to broaden his choices, when she said, _‘let’s meet her,’_ he went.  When she wanted to travel, he made it happen; when she wanted to meet his mother, he allowed her; when she wanted him to move in with him, he did.

It had been that simple –it had been her choice at all times and he never thought about going against her words or against her choices because at that point in his life, he felt that because he had no one to lean on, he had no one he could go to –he needed to lean on Kate, needed to get her approval and do his best to make her happy and earn her love.

And that’s where he went wrong.

From the very beginning, their relationship was not based on what they wanted or on what they liked, it was based on what Kate wanted; the only thing that had mattered was what she wanted and how he would give it.

But, looking at how his life turned out, he regretted not being more in control –regretted not having been more demanding –and maybe that was why now he demanded so much and if he didn’t get what he asked for, or if what he got less than what he asked for, he wouldn’t take it –he wouldn’t give in.

He trusted no one and didn’t enjoy anyone’s company –but right now, right here –in his own home, was Stiles, and he was fascinated by it.

Derek wasn’t fascinated in the sense of wanting Stiles –though if he had to admit it, Stiles, even though he was an annoying little thing, was even more attractive than any other person Derek had met in a long time and he could picture himself wanting him; but he just simply didn’t even want to think about it.

He was more fascinated in the sense that he _enjoyed_ Stiles’ presence in his house.

Granted, he didn’t know Stiles enough to say he trusted him completely and he wouldn’t trust him anytime soon and maybe he never would; but the way he treated Soph made Derek realize that Stiles was trustworthy.

Stiles was so young and so put together and he knew what he wanted –and Derek could tell he didn’t want to work under Derek’s supervision, and he really couldn’t blame him, he wouldn’t want to work under his own supervision at any given point.  But as put together as he was, Derek realized that his sister was right, Stiles would do good –Stiles would be great.

“Soph,” said Derek in an almost whisper.  “Stiles and I have some work to do, why don’t you go and play with your toys?”

“But daddy,” whined Soph.  “I wanted to watch TV with ‘Tiles!”

“Soph,” said Derek in a firmer tone.  “Go play –Stiles has work to do.”

“Daddy!”

“Kato,” said Stiles kneeling before her.  “Tell you what: if you go play with your toys and let me work with your, uh, dad, I promise I will watch TV with you –we’ll even get popcorn!”

“Many popcorns!” exclaimed Soph and Stiles nodded.

And just like that, Soph was running to her room to play leaving Derek to stare behind her.

“You are good with kids,” he said to Stiles as he took his seat.

“Yeah,” he said with a small laugh.  “I’ve always been really good with kids.”

“I see,” was all Derek could say and the boy just stared at him, lips slightly parted and Derek was staring at them.

“Want me to leave?” asked Stiles out of the blue.

“Not until we finish reviewing whatever is in here,” he said reaching for the briefcase.

And Stiles just nodded.

“Also,” said Derek as he took all the files out of the briefcase.  “Kato?”

And Stiles stared at him blankly.

“Her name’s Sophia,” Derek said.

“Oh,” said Stiles scratching the back of his head.  “Yeah, she said her name was Kailoe Sophia Hale, but she didn’t really like Kailoe and I said I liked Kailoe more, but that Kato was way cuter, so,” he finished shrugging.

Derek sighed.

“It’s Kaitlyn, not Kailoe,” he said looking at Stiles.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yes, I would know –I named her,” replied Derek, crossing his arms.

“Then why doesn’t she know how to pronounce it?” he asked looking at Derek and Derek just looked at him with a blank expression.  “She said Kailoe –I’m not kidding!”

Derek sighed.  Again.

“We never call her by Kaitlyn,” he said.  “Just Sophia or Soph.”

Stiles nodded in response and Derek could just tell he wanted to say something about it –it was so easy to read the boy by just looking at his face and seeing his eyes darken.

“What?” Derek asked.

“What, what?” asked Stiles getting his cup of coffee and Derek just stared at him. 

“’Is just that…” he begin, but stopped.  “I mean, I don’t wanna tell you how to parent or say that you are doing something wrong, because clearly, it’s your child and I’m not a parent –so, I’m just gonna say that even if you don’t like it or don’t think it’s a big deal, it’s important for kids to grow up knowing and embracing their full names.  She says she doesn’t like Kaitlyn, but she doesn’t even know how to pronounce it and she can’t not, not like it; it’s her name after all.  She can’t say she doesn’t like it based on the fact that you don’t use it or call her by it –she’s too little to not like her own name.”

“Says the person who goes by Stiles,” said Derek.

“Because the person who goes by Stiles says it, you should pay attention to it,” he said shrugging.  “Her full name is Kaitlyn Sophia; she isn’t just Sophia and she isn’t just Kaitlyn, she is both and she is more and you should encourage her to embrace herself.”

Derek just stared at him because now that he thought about it, he really had not paid attention to it.

He just didn’t want to call her Kaitlyn because it was too close to Kate and he didn’t like it –he hated that Soph could resemble Kate in any way imaginable.

“Well, thank you for your advice,” said Derek, clearing his throat and his mind.  “Now, what is it that you are struggling with?”

And Stiles just stared at him –his eyes somehow brighter.

“In general or?” he asked.

“With work, Stiles,” replied Derek as he turned on the Mac.

“Oh, right,” said Stiles.  “A lot of things really, I mean don’t get me wrong I feel like I can do this and I try, but then I struggle a little and it goes downhill from there.  Like, I don’t know procedure –I know that for every case, there is procedure to take, but I don’t know what the steps are and it’s confusing; you made it confusing to be honest.”

Derek nodded.

“I know,” replied Derek.  “Sorry.”

And Stiles smiled at him.

Derek almost smiled back.

“But, during my time off, I looked into this whole internship thing and it’ll be better and you should be able to complete this thing and get out of my hair –so, let’s work on it, okay?”

And Stiles just nodded before he spoke.  “Only you should know that if all goes well, and if I complete my internship and at the end of it, Laura and, uh, you, are satisfied with it; she might offer me a junior associate position at your firm, so technically, I won’t be out of your hair.”

Derek smiled, and so maybe he would continue to see Stiles.

“Well, as you said, if everything goes well, then yeah, I will see you more often at the firm –but at the same time, even if that happens, once you become a junior associate, you will still be out of my hair; I have nothing to do with junior associates, unless it involves me firing them –so, let us hope that you will always be out of my hair, if the day you work for the firm ever comes,” said Derek calmly as he opened his emails and read through them and was bit surprised to see that most of them came from Isaac.

“Right,” said Stiles in a shaky laugh.

“Why do most of my emails come from Isaac?” he asked, not really looking for an answer.

“Oh, yeah, I was using his email. And his desk. And his phone. Even his pencil. Isaac is really nice, did you know?”

Derek clenched his jaw.

“Clearly, I don’t know as much as you,” he said reading through the emails and Stiles stared at his face; he could feel Stiles staring at him.

Most of his emails were just complaints from the clients or from Stiles.  In some he was telling him how hard it was and he didn’t understand the procedures and in some he was saying how he had figured it out all thanks to Isaac and it was annoying as hell.

Derek didn’t need those kinds of emails in his inbox.

“Here,” he said handing Stiles his notepad.  “Write this down and remember it.”

Stiles took it and nodded.

“First thing’s first, you are not my assistant –you are my intern; there’s a difference, I just didn’t really know what that was until like a day ago.  As my intern, you are supposed to follow me around like a lost puppy, I know weird, but those were the exact words I got from the website, and you are not really supposed to be doing much paper work, but because we are paying you your internship, we expect you to do paperwork.

“So, some things that I want you to keep in mind are:

1\. Don’t drown my inbox with useless information,

2\. Don’t call me –at all,

3\. Don’t rely on Isaac –he’s learning too, and I can’t trust for him to help you out and guide you through correctly,

4\. Always come to _me_ for anything –if you tell me what is wrong, we can fix whatever it is, and

5\. Help me help you.

“If you follow these rules, we will get through your internship without any problems.”

Stiles nodded almost robotically as he stared at Derek.

“Now,” said Derek.  “Update me on what is going at the office.”

They reviewed all the files, one at a time –Derek stopping to explain to Stiles why certain motions were different than others and why some of the changes he was requesting were needed pursuant to the statue of limitations and pursuant to the code.  And Stiles would ask questions –some very relevant that Derek could understand where they were coming from and what they had to do with the case at hand and others were so irrelevant that it took a lot of patience from Derek not to call Stiles and idiot or to kick him out of his house.

All in all, Derek realized that Stiles was very smart –not that he hadn’t noticed it before; but he realized it even more now.

As soon as Derek explained why a change needed to be made, Stiles went on to write it down on his notes; he made corrections to some of the files that he had brought with him; he corrected it before he was told to correct them and Derek was in awe.

Stiles was so young.

So bold.

So eager.

So completely filled with wonder and amazement and Derek couldn’t help, but want some of his passion, some of his poise and his liveliness.

Derek wanted so much just by looking at Stiles and he realized he could only get so little.

He wanted more than he could get; more than he deserved to get.

And Stiles.

Stiles stared at him in amazement, whether it was at his knowledge or at his looks, Derek didn’t know, but he didn’t feel offended if it was the latter –he looked at Stiles the same way at different times and it was more than he thought it would be.

Stiles’ was beautiful and not the Gucci catalog beautiful –though Derek was sure he could be, but it was more of the real natural beauty.  His face was filled with freckles and moles that Derek wanted to trace and count with the tip of his fingers; his lips were the perfect shade of pink and Derek might have thought about getting drunk off of them in many different ways and in every possible way; and his eyes were amber, they were warm honey and bubbly champaign and they were focused on Derek.

“I think that was the last file, right?” asked Stiles scratching the back of his head.

And Derek nodded.

He didn’t really know if it was the last file –time had gone by so fast; too fast.

It had been midday at some point and at the other it had been three in the afternoon and Derek found that he wanted to continue the rhythm he and Stiles had set.

He wanted to continue feeling productive, useful and needed.

Derek wanted to continue to give Stiles instructions and wanted to hear Stiles voice melt into realization that he understood what Derek was saying and moving right away to make the changes needed.

He wanted to continue looking at Stiles –at the way his firm hands moved from one paper to the other, from one file to another; how they moved across the keyboard and the way they held his pen and glided along the note pad.

Derek wanted to continue looking at how Stiles scrunched his eyebrows in concentration –at how his eyes went from dark coffee to hazelnut to warm honey to champaign depending on how the lighting hit it and on how stressed Stiles was.

He found that looking at Stiles move in front of him made him feel alive.

It made him feel warm.

Looking at Stiles made him feel a bit complete –as if he had found a small piece of his life he didn’t know was messing.

And he wondered to what lengths he would go to continue to look at Stiles; to continue to feel the warmth he didn’t know had been missing until he realized how cold he had been.

He looked at Stiles in a new light –in a different way, as if Stiles had hung the moon.

He felt ridiculous.

Naïve.

And hot.

So hot, every time Stiles’ whiskey eyes rested on him for more than one second.

And it was too soon, too sudden, too rushed, but he felt himself want so much from Stiles –and he felt scared not knowing if he could even get half of what he wanted.

He rested his eyes on Stiles one more time and he begin to melt into Stiles’ eyes as they stared back at his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you for continuing to read & for continuing to leave some love for my baby.


	4. Having

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s going so fast, Derek is drowning and Stiles is breathing.
> 
> And Stiles is living and Derek is taking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will say that it’s going fast, relationship wise anyway –but, it’s going to slow down, and it’s becoming this big thing for me and I honestly love it to the point where I have already finished the next chapter and I just want to thank beyonce’s vma performance for continuously saving my life #LongLiveQueenBey

“You were like one of those guys,  
The kind with wandering eyes (HEY!),  
But I said, "hey what the hell, once in my life, I'll take a ride on the wild side,"  
You were so full of yourself,  
But damn, were you cute, as well (HEY!),  
You liked my legs, I liked your moves  
Anyone could tell that it's hard to deny that,

Did it again, now,  
I got it all wrong,  
But it felt so right,  
I can't believe it.”

Did It Again – Shakira

“So, wait, what happened?” asked Scott as he put on his white jersey.

“Shh,” said Stiles. “I told you to shhh!”

Scott laughed and Stiles frowned.

His best friend clearly didn’t understand the seriousness of the issue.

He had kissed his boss.

Almost.

Almost kissed Derek.

Stiles didn’t really understand what had happened. One minute, they were eating pizza with Kato, the next they were watching TV because Kato refused to let Stiles leave until he watched Sophia the First with her and the next he was leaning in to Derek.

He was leaning –but Derek was too, so clearly, it wasn’t Stiles’ fault altogether.

Stiles had thought about it a lot, more times than he had thought about his paper for Deaton’s class and he kept feeling so stupid.

The only reason why he had leaned in was because they were whispering.

Kato fell asleep and Derek and Stiles were still watching the show, because… because, he didn’t quite know why, but they continued to watch it and they were sitting together on the same couch, Kato in between them, and Stiles was telling Derek about how he thought it was strange that Sophia could talk to animals and then it kind of led him to talk about X-Men, because come on –if she didn’t need that magical medallion, Sophia screamed mutant!

But Derek said he didn’t really watch X-Men, so Stiles was telling him all about it and the next thing he knew, he was so close to Derek he could practically feel his breath on his own mouth and that is the reason why he leaned in a bit –but then, he got up so fast it gave him whiplash.

“I am so sorry, oh my god, I am so, so sorry,” he said as he walked a bit trying to leave Derek’s couch. “I don’t know what got into me –I’m sorry, I really am, I’m gonna –I’m just going to let myself out. I’m so, sorry. Really, I am. I don’t know what that was –, oh my god, I, you know, I, uh, just, I –I will see you next week. Sorry. I don’t know –this is so awkward, I’m sorry. And I feel like I am making it more awkward. So, I’m just going to go now. I’m sorry.”

He blabbered for quite a bit before he actually left and Derek, yeah, he didn’t say anything. He just looked at Stiles and stayed put.

Stiles left Derek’s apartment in a hurry and ran to his jeep and the first thing he did, was call Scott, but Scott didn’t pick up because he was on the plane on his way to New York, so he left several voicemails for Scott telling him all about what had happened and he drove to his own little apartment, his heartbeat raising the whole entire time.

God, Stiles was so stupid.

“This is what happens when you don’t come see me as soon as you land!” he hissed as Scott put on his socks.

“I couldn’t come see you because –”

“Because he was sucking another guy’s dick,” interrupted Jackson from across the bench.

“Yeah, hahahaaha, okay,” laughed Stiles not bothering to engage in their usual dick sucking conversation.

“You know Stilinski, none of the girlfriends are allowed to come in the locker room as we all change,” said Aiden as he tied his shorts.

“Luckily for me, I am a boy –friend,” he said looking at Scott, who just sat there all dressed up, eating a banana.

“Bilinski,” said coach Finstock from the entrance. “I don’t care to know how much you missed Scott and how much you want to hop on that right now. I want you out of the locker room, no I want you away from the tunnel, and I want you as far away from the team as possible.”

Stiles rolled his eyes.

Finstock had known him almost as long as he had known Scott and he still called him Bilinski.

Un-fucking-believable.

“Go on now, go sit at your usual VIP place and get out of my sight –out of everyone’s sight,” continued coach Finstock staring at the clipboard in front of him. “Go, Bilinski, go! Why are you still here?”

“Yes, coach,” was all Stiles said before patting Scott on the shoulder and walking out of the locker room.

He ran to the field –just briefly, he wanted to check it out before he went back to watching from the sidelines.

It was an amazing sight.

Every time he went up there, every time he had the opportunity to step on the green grass, he wondered what it would have been like if he had had the ability to be a soccer player –to be the soccer player that Scott was.

He wondered what it would be like living in Scott’s shoes; training none stop to become one of the best youngest soccer players in the world; what it would be like to be on the United States Notional Team, to play in the World Cup; to win MVP of the match; to be the face of Adidas, to be the face of Emporio Armani Underwear; to be on top of the world and he wondered what it would have been like if he had pursued his once upon a time dream of being a soccer player and he laughed.

That was all he could do: laugh.

Had he chased the same dream that Scott did for almost as long as Scott had but he failed where Scott succeeded and he was sure he would have never become half the soccer player Scott was today.

He often thought about that one audition he missed while his mother was in the hospital and he wondered whether it was a sign that chasing the ball wasn’t for him.

He sighed and decided to walk to his seat.

But as he did, he saw Allison sitting right above the entrance to the tunnel and he waved at her and screamed her name before Allison actually saw him and then waved back.

“What are you doing down there?” she asked bending over a bit.

“Oh,” said Stiles. “Just you know, uh, checking the field to make sure it’s, um, as green as it’s supposed to be.”

And she smiled back at him.

“Who are you here with?” he asked her.

“Myself,” she replied scrunching his nose.

“Really?” he asked in disbelief.

“Yeah, my aunt couldn’t make it to the game, so I am here alone.”

And Stiles nodded.

Guess that after all these years, her aunt was back in New York; Stiles knew how much Allison loved her aunt and he was happy for her.

“Want to sit with me?” he asked her.

She looked at him a bit confused.

“Um, sure,” she said. “Want to come up here? I have an extra seat?”

And Stiles laughed.

“No,” he said. “Want to come down here?”

And Allison looked at him half amused.

“Can I?” she asked, looking at him with big eyes.

God, she was beautiful.

“Yes,” he said smiling. “Just, um, give me a minute.”

He ran back to the locker room to get his VIP pass –not that he needed it, he had been with Scott at almost every game he could think of and the staff already knew him and he felt like he could pretty much run around everywhere and not be told a single thing; plus, someone was always following him when he was in the stadium just like they followed the team’s girlfriends.

As he ran out of the locker room, he ran into Scott, who was walking with Liam, a new winger who would be playing his first game tonight.

“Stiles,” said Scott. “Where you going?”

“Hey, bud,” he said coming to a stop and Liam waved at him and Stiles smiled at him. “I’m just going to the first floor real quick –need to pick up someone!”

“Who?” asked Scott.

“A friend.”

“Girlfriend?”

“She is a girl,” he said nodding.

“Wait,” said Liam. “Aren’t you two –no, never mind.”

Stiles laughed.

“I already went out there,” said Stiles. “It’s packed!”

And then he ran.

He went to Allison and she smiled at him before giving him a small hug.

“I’m so glad I ran into you,” she said, holding on to his arms. “I love coming to soccer games, but I don’t like coming alone!”

“You like soccer?” he asked.

How long had he known Allison and yet, he didn’t know Allison.

“Yes!” she said excitedly. “I love it very much. I used to play when I was younger, but only when my aunt used to take me to practices.”

“Huh,” huffed Stiles.

So maybe he really didn’t know Allison that much.

“Had I known, I would have asked you to come with me to all the games,” he said as the crowd screamed.

“You come to a lot of games?” she asked him looking down at the field.

“Not a lot, but I do to some; mostly the ones for the LA Galaxy,” he said clapping as the teams came up to the field.

“That’s my team!” said Allison.

And Stiles smiled.

Had he known, he would have really asked her to go with him to the games.

“Are you going to stay here?” asked Allison.

“I guess I could,” said Stiles. “It has been a really long time since I watched from the stands.”

And Allison stared at him, but didn’t say anything.

Soon, the national anthem was heard throughout the crowd and Stiles stood as did Allison and they sang their hearts out.

Time went by fast and before Stiles knew it, the ball was rolling and Scott was the first to kick it to midfield. He passed it to Jackson and he ran with it the opposite side, past Liam and to the goal; he aimed and kicked, but didn’t score.

“Come on Jackson!” screamed Stiles.

This idiot would hover the fucking ball.

Again.

Stiles knew how much Jackson hated the Chivas, but he really hoped Jackson wasn’t planning on taking the team on his own.

The minutes went by and the ball rolled on and it was kicked from one player to the next and to another and before he realized it, they were half way through the first half. Scott had been steady the whole time, if there had ever been a doubt in Stiles’ mind -which there had never been one – but if there had been, today’s game just proved how good of a defender Scott was.

Scott flew across the field, assisted, fuck, he was so far in the goal at one time he could practically be the fucking goalie!

And all the time, Stiles cheered for Scott.

He screamed and chanted.

And screamed some more.

The forty-fourth minute rolled by and Scott zig-zagged from the opposite side of the field to the other, kicked the ball to Liam; Liam kicked it back to Scott and Scott kicked it to Jackson, and Jackson scored!

“That’s my boy!” screamed Stiles. “That’s my fucking boy!”

And Allison just cheered with him as did the rest of the crowd, who were not cheering for Jackson or for the team as a whole; no, they were cheering for Scott.

Half time came around and Stiles kept cheering.

He didn’t stop.

This was Scott.

Scott, who was in a bit of pain and discomfort.

Scott, who despite the advice given to stay out of this game, pushed forward.

Scott, who deserved to be cheered on; not just because he was Stiles brother, but because he was a fucking role model for so many kids out there that looked up to him for being so talented, so humble, so fast, so kind, so full of live and joy which he only wanted to share it with the rest of the world.

“Scott!” he screamed. “Woooooooo!”

And Allison laughed.

“You’re such a big fan boy,” she said looking at the bench, where the team was heading to get some water and take a break.

“I really am,” he said before he screamed again. “Scott! Scottie! My bro! Wooo!”

And Scott, who was walking next to Jackson drinking water, turned to look his way and waved back and Stiles gave him a big thumbs-up and Scott smiled brighter.

Thirsty? Scott mouthed.

And Stiles nodded in response and Scott held up his index finger, indicating him to wait a minute before disappearing inside the tunnel and Stiles did.

“You know the team?” asked Allison as she stared where Stiles did.

Stiles being Stiles, had completely forgotten that he was sitting with Allison and he had been pretty much absorbed in watching the game and in keeping track of Scott’s moves to make sure that he was fine and that he wasn’t being hurt in any possible way and he lost track of where he was sitting, of who he was with; Scott became his priority when he was watching the game.

“Yeah,” said Stiles. “See, Scott, number 11? –” and Allison nodded in response “– that’s my best friend.”

And Allison looked at him in disbelief.

“We grew up together back in Beacon Hills, California,” he continued. “And now, he is a professional soccer player and I’m trash.”

And Allison smiled at him half-heartedly.

“No wonder you are at all of the games then,” she said with a small smile. “And you aren’t trash.”

And he nodded, smiling at her as Liam walked out of the tunnel with two waters and threw them up at Stiles and Stiles almost dropped them, but managed to catch them and yelled a big thanks to Liam before he disappeared back into the tunnel.

The people around him went a little nuts screaming in excitement at the sight of a sweaty Liam and Stiles sighed remembering the reasons why he didn’t sit at the bleachers.

He handed one to Allison and he drank the other.

“People are whispering,” said Allison, leaning in to him.

Stiles sighed getting up.

“Come,” he said extending her his hand and she took it.

They walked down to the ground floor and back in to the locker room area, to the tunnel –but, they went through the other entrance, and he guided Allison to the field sitting area, where the family members or girlfriends usually sat and as expected, no one stopped him –no one talked to him, no one double checked his pass –they just let him through, guided him as to what way to go and they made it to their seat before the second half started.

“Are you sure we can sit here?” Allison asked and Stiles nodded in response, but said nothing as he waved to the people around them and greeted some as the ball rolled again.

The game was a bit disappointing.

It was as if Jackson didn’t want the team to win or as if he didn’t know for what team he was playing for. He handed the ball to the opposite team more often than it was accidently possible. Not, to mention that he kicked Scott for no freaking reason.

The twins, yeah okay –so they let Aiden play for the first half and then Ethan, but it was so easy to tell the boys switched jerseys and they were faking so hard that they ended up throwing the whole team off, it was as if they had forgotten who plays what: Aiden is a defender; Ethan is a winger. They were completely off.

Then there was Boyd, God bless Boyd, he carried the whole team for the second half off the game it wasn’t even funny. He came in after the second half when he subbed for Scott, because Scott really couldn’t make it through the whole game and they really had to take him out.

But, Boyd did so much in so little.

He was running through the field, flying really, he was midfielder, he was a defender, he was goalie, he was everything that was holding that team together and yet, they still managed to lose!

Boyd covered each and every single position at every given point, kicked the ball to Mason, then back to Jackson, then to Aiden, then to Jackson, and he still managed not to score when he made it so easy for him. He missed, but he didn’t even try.

The whole game was a joke.

In the end, they ended up tied in a friendly game against the Chivas USA, but let’s face it, when is a friendly ever just a friendly?

The team should have gone all in.

Stiles was so upset!

And more than anything, Scott was more upset and disappointed, and he would do what he always, did: take the blame for the team’s lose and it was going to weigh him down, like it always did.

When Stiles made it to the locker room, he was going to give Jackson a piece of his mind.

“Now what?” asked Allison as the teams walked back to their locker rooms.

And Stiles, again, forgot where he was –with who he was.

“Now, we wait,” responded Stiles, looking back at Allison who was still sitting next to him, her hands tucked under her chin.

“That was a rough game,” she said and he nodded, he wasn’t going to get into how annoyed he was with the way the game turned out –not because she was a girl, but because he was too upset to even discuss it.

“You don’t mind waiting, do you?” he asked her as the noise from the audience started to fade, some were leaving for their homes, other to enjoy the rest of their evening at a local bar, and others were running out to wait at the shuttles for the teams, in hopes of getting a picture or an autograph.

And Stiles was waiting to see Scott.

He wanted to make sure Scott was okay; he wanted to see him, to touch his knee and make sure it was okay; to others, it made him look like an anxious boyfriend, but to him, he was just a worried brother.

The minutes passed by, and Scott wasn’t coming out. He wasn’t calling him, he wasn’t texting him, and so, Stiles decided to go see him on his own.

He grabbed on to Allison and led her back to the locker room.

They went around the press and through the back and to the locker room, to find that no one could go in.

So, they stayed there waiting.

And waiting.

Until Scott finally came out.

“You okay?” asked Stiles and Scott smiled back at him.

“I am now,” he said and Stiles felt the need to tell him it was okay –to tell him, it wasn’t on him; that he had done an amazing job.

But instead, he just nodded.

“Let’s go,” said Scott and Stiles nodded.

“Come on, Ali,” he said extending his hand and she took it. “Oh, before we go, Allison, this is Scott, Scott, this is Allison.”

They looked at each other for a short minute and smiled before saying a small, “hey,” and that was that.

And they went with Scott to the nearest restaurant.

They ate and chatted and laughed and Stiles drank, a little.

There were talks about how it had been when they were growing up; about how unbelievably close he and Scott were.

About how they met when they were in preschool and stuck together since.

And Scott told Allison about how Stiles asked him to be his boyfriend when they were eight and how Scott had accepted. And then Stiles told Allison about how Stiles didn’t really know what a boyfriend was back then, but his mom had told him that once he grew up –he would meet a nice girl or boy who he would just like to be around and Stiles, at that age, only liked to be around Scott; and that that had been the reason why he asked Scott to be his boyfriend.

Allison smiled and told them she thought it was “cute.”

Then Stiles told Allison about how their parents got married when they were sixteen and there was no turning back now.

And Allison laughed, all the while looking at Scott and Scott stared back at her with the silliest puppy smile.

Stiles had known it would be like this.

He knew that the moment he introduced Scott to Allison, they would hit it off. They would fall for one another almost instantly; he knew it would be at first sight and he was so happy to be able to witness it come true.

He sat back and enjoyed their conversation.

Allison told Scott how she had moved a lot while she was younger and how being in New York was the first time she actually settled. And Scott told her about how he had always lived in Beacon Hills and how homesick he gets when he’s away –Allison thought that was super cute.

They went on and on for hours and Stiles sat there the whole time wondering if he would ever have something similar, which granted, wasn’t there yet; but, he knew was sure to come with time.

Stiles wondered if he would ever fall for someone almost instantly, unknowingly, and he wondered if he would be able to recognize it.

He wondered if, and when, he fell for someone, would he be able to let himself know that person was the one.

He wanted it to be as easy as breathing.

As easy as living.

And he wanted something that lasted forever.

He felt funny thinking about it, but he had always thought about how it would be falling in love with someone and he had always wanted it to be a onetime thing.

Stiles didn’t want to have to go from one person to the next trying to find the right one and maybe that was the reason why he didn’t date; why he didn’t pay attention to useless chatter from any other person who he didn’t feel a connection with.

He had been like this, always; well, mostly anyway.

But that was what he believed in –what he hoped for.

He wanted something as special as what his mother had felt.

And he knew he might waste a great amount of time waiting for the right person, but as his mother use to say, “things we love, things we care for take time; time doesn’t run out, light doesn’t burn, it waits –it preserves.”

And Stiles believed his mother and above all trusted her.

She fell for his father as instantly as Scott was falling for Allison, and yes, it was pretty obvious that Scott was falling, and his mom told him she knew his dad was the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with –however short or long that might be.

She had no regrets; everything that she had always wanted –had always expected, came true as soon as she held his dad and if at any given point she was to go, she was happy to have lived such a full live.

And Stiles grew up listening to his mother’s voice telling him about how great and full her live had been and he truly believed it had been; he only wished it had lasted longer.

It was his mother why he always believed that when he fell in love, he would fall in love unexpectedly, easily and that it would last.

And now he was there sitting with his best friends, watching them fall in love and he couldn’t help but want that for him.

He couldn’t help but want the same –the same and more.

He couldn’t help want to take more easily, faster, longer and more aggressively.

Stiles wondered what it would have been like if he had taken the chances he gave up on; the ones he didn’t go for, the ones were he stopped himself –where he didn’t let himself take and receive and he wondered if he would have found someone to love by now.

It might have been the alcohol; it might have been the lingering air of romance in the air, but Stiles felt a change; he felt a spark light him up and set him off into the sky where he flew from one cloud to the next and he was high, so high, he didn’t want to come down.

It might have been because he didn’t want to be the third wheel for Scott and Allison’s bicycle that made him get up and leave the bar.

He left the bar and ran.

He ran to where his thoughts between yesterday and today were taking him.

To where his body guided him to; to where his feet let him.

Stiles ran to the one place he felt he needed to run to; to the place he felt a pull towards.

He ran to take a chance.

He ran to Derek.

/*/

“Laura, when did you know she was the one?” asked Derek as he lay on the couch across from her, Soph on his sister’s lap.

“When she walked into my office soaking wet,” she responded as she continued to attempt to braid Soph’s hair as she drew on her notebook because Stiles had braided it for her on Friday, but when Derek tried to braid it for her, per her request, it wasn’t “pretty” enough.

“I’m being serious,” said Derek.

“I am too,” she said.

And Derek sighed.

“Derek, she was wearing a white shirt. I don’t think you understand,” Laura said as she moved on to the next braid and Derek threw a pillow her way.

“So it was a physical thing?” he asked.

“No,” she responded. “It wasn’t a physical thing right at that moment, I mean don’t get me wrong, Erica can never look bad –she’s the prettiest woman I know; but at that moment, she was a complete mess. She was drenched in water from running across the city in the rain and her mascara was running down her cheek, her hair was sticking to her face and her neck, and she was breathing as if she was drowning while standing up, as if there wasn’t enough air in the world to fill her lungs; she was so vulnerable, yet she looked at me with the most piercing eyes that I couldn’t help but want to protect her and that’s when I took however many steps her way.”

“But I protect her more than she protects me,” said Erica as she came to sit next to Laura, a towel wrapped around her hair.

“You do,” replied Laura finishing up Soph’s last braid.

“Why Soph you look lovely,” said Erica reaching for her cheek, but Soph batted her hands away.

“’Is Kato,” she said. “My name’s Kato.”

“Kato?” asked Erica looking at Derek and Derek closed his eyes.

He still couldn’t believe his daughter wanted to go from Soph to Kato just because one person said “he liked Kato better.”

It was ridiculous.

“It’s what she wants to be called,” he said bleakly.

“Really? Why?” asked Erica and Laura laughed.

“She just likes it better,” he said in an effort to stop Laura from sharing Stiles’ re-naming his daughter story.

“’Tiles likes it better too, Aunt ‘Rica,” said Soph as she continued to draw on her small notebook she had brought with her.

“’Tiles? As in Stiles?” asked Erica in disbelief and Laura giggled.

“Yes,” was all he said and Erica looked at Laura and Laura just shrugged.

“Well, I like Kato too,” said Erica sitting next to Soph. “It’s very pretty, just like the picture you are drawing, can I help you?”

“NO!” hollered Soph. “You can’t, Aunt ‘Rica, tis for ‘Tiles!”

And Derek sighed.

Up until one day ago, his daughter only drew pictures for four people: him, her grandma, Laura and Erica. And now, now, she was drawing a picture –not just doddles, but a full drawing, for Stiles. And Derek was upset, no, he was angry at the influence that Stiles had had on his daughter in one day.

“Kaitlyn,” he said sitting up. “What have I said? We don’t yell!”

“Kaitlyn?” asked Laura and Derek sighed.

“That’s her name,” he said simply picking up his leather jacket. “I’m leaving. Please don’t let her sleep too late and don’t give her a lot of sugar –I know you guys enjoy being the cool aunts but please, for the sake of her teeth, don’t give her too much candy.”

And they both rolled their eyes at him as he bent down to give Soph a kiss and wish her a goodnight.

“You sure you wanna stay here Soph –Kato?” he asked her, kissing her cheek and she nodded in response, but said nothing as she continued to draw.

And Derek nodded against her cheek.

“Okay then, I’m leaving,” he said bending over to kiss Laura on the forehead and to push Erica’s face against the table.

“Drive safely,” yelled Laura as he walked to the door.

“Get laid,” yelled Erica as he opened the door.

He walked to his car all the while wondering what he should do.

Derek hadn’t gone out in a long time and today he really wasn’t planning on going anywhere, but Soph said she wanted to sleepover at her aunts’ house and so he was now alone on a Saturday night with nothing to do, but go to a bar and drink and maybe hook up or go home and catch up on The Walking Dead.

He chose the latter.

Despite him not getting laid in three months, he really didn’t want to waste his time going to a bar and getting hit on by random people until he found someone decent enough to actually have sex with; it wasn’t that he was picky –but, how could he not be when he needed to make sure he could have sex with someone worth his time.

He was so demanding sometimes that he had to go from one bar to the other in search of someone he found attractive enough and there were times were he wasted a whole night and it wasn’t healthy; he didn’t find it healthy.

Derek wanted something like what Laura and Erica had.

They had been together since the day Derek met Kate and where he found misery with Kate, Laura found a long lasting stable relationship with Erica filled with nothing but love and understanding and Derek was happy for his sister, he was, but at the same time, seeing Laura that happy, that overjoyed, that overcome with the sense of love for Erica made him want to be in love with someone, to find someone that loved him the way he loved that person.

And he had tried, he did.

One year after he had Soph, he dated Braden, a district attorney, for six months and it was great; the sex was great, but beyond that, nothing else was worth his time.

So, he did what he always did, he moved on and she did too.

Then he dated Jennifer, a professor, but nothing really seemed to work out and she was way in too deep, in such a short time that he started to feel suffocated and he had to call it quits –she didn’t like it, and made quite the scene at his office, but she moved on… eventually.

Those relationships hadn’t worked out for him and he felt that maybe he wasn’t meant to have a relationship at all –maybe, he should just focus on the physical part and not even invest on the emotional part of any relationships and so, he went about his life with that perspective for a year and half.

And up until recently, up until his sister brought it up really, he felt he could continue like that –he felt he should continue like that. But after giving it so much thought, he realized that perhaps he was ready to move on, to move forward, to try again –but at the same time, he felt a bit insecure about it and it made him uncomfortable just thinking about getting into a relationship and honestly, he liked the thought of being in a relationship, but just the thought, he wasn’t about to try to get into a relationship anytime soon.

If it made its way to him, maybe he would hold on to it and try again.

If it was fated to be, if it was for him, he would take the chance.

He went home and took a warm shower, put on some comfortable gray pants and a white Henley, prepared fruit and cheese and opened a bottle of wine and sat in front of the TV to watch all the recordings he had scheduled, but as he did, his doorbell begin to ring.

It rang once.

And then again.

And again.

And it continued to ring until he opened it.

“What in the name of –Stiles?” he asked in surprise as he stared at Stiles standing outside his door at this late at night.

“Uh, hey,” said Stiles clasping his hands together. “You know what, I’m sorry, I thought you weren’t home and I don’t know what it is that made me keep ringing your doorbell –sorry. And I know it’s weird that I’m here, outside your door –again without a prior notice, but I just had to come; and no, Laura didn’t send me this time; so, if you want to close the door in my face, uhahaha, I will totally understand; and if you don’t, if you don’t close the door, I might do something really stupid, like the stupidest thing you can think of so please, please, save me from doing something totally embarrassing and close the door in my face, because I honestly think I deserve it.”

And Derek didn’t understand what was going on and he usually didn’t care to understand.

Normally, he would have slammed the door on his face, and he still felt like he should have, a big part of him wanted to, but Stiles was outside his door acting weirder than he had seen him act before and all he could think to do, all he could really do, was open the door all the way for him to come in.

“You’re not going to close it on my face?”

And Derek just looked at him and shook his head “no.”

And Stiles laughed.

And Derek realized that he wasn’t laughing because he thought Derek letting him in was funny, but he was laughing out of nervousness, out of instinct, as a self-protecting instinct, and he also realized that Stiles was sweating; his face was flushed red and beads of sweat were forming and rolling down his face.

“You alright?” he asked.

And Stiles shook his head “no” and then laughed some more.

“I’m going to do it, oh my GOD,” he said before unexpectedly walking in, pushing Derek against the wall, firmly and ungraceful.

He looked at Derek with dark eyes and Derek didn’t know what this was about, but he didn’t stop it, he didn’t move, he didn’t push him away, he just stood there taking in the sight of him, his whole presence, his whole determination and he realized that Stiles’ whole body was shaking before he slowly –very slowly, as if he wanted to make sure he didn’t push too far, inched his face closer to Derek’s until his lips were brushing against his.

Stiles didn’t do anything, he just rested his lips there for a second, as he stared back at Derek –who not so shockingly, didn’t move. He didn’t know Stiles was at his house for this; he wasn’t expecting Stiles at his house for this or for any other reason for that matter, but this was surprisingly not so bad, it was awkward as hell because Stiles just stared at him, his lips against his, but other than that, he didn’t feel the need to push him away.

It was quite the opposite.

On Friday, he felt himself lean in to Stiles as they were sitting on the couch talking about some useless stuff he didn’t care much for right at this moment, but Stiles was so focused, so engrossed on telling Derek all about whatever they were talking about that Derek found himself staring at Stiles’ hands as they moved with every word he said, as they came to rest against his face every other minute, as they came to scratch his neck and chin and Derek had been so enticed by Stiles lips moving non-stop that he felt himself move forward towards Stiles, but Stiles stood up right before they kissed.

And he had been avoiding that thought the whole weekend, but right now, Stiles was in his apartment, pushing him against the wall, resting his lips against his and all Derek could do was lean in.

He closed his eyes and wrapped his hands around Stiles’ small frame at the same time that Stiles placed his smooth hands against his face and slowly, moved his lips against his. It wasn’t sloppy, it wasn’t tender, it was new, it was refreshing like a new breath of fresh sea air and Derek couldn’t help but take in big gulps against Stiles’ mouth.

It was so fulfilling, so enriching, and it made Derek want more.

Having Stiles wrapped in his arms, his whole frame against his, took him back to Friday, were he couldn’t help but fall for Stiles’ eyes, for the warm honey in them that slowly drowned Derek and took away his senses.

He wondered now, what color Stiles’ eyes would be and he couldn’t take the want that had come back again.

Derek flipped their positions and now it was Stiles against the wall, but were Stiles had barely any control over Derek’s body and left him enough space as to allow him to walk away or move if he so chose to, Derek left no space. He caged him in –pinned him against the wall moving his lips against his, carelessly, rough and raw, not caring to see who dominated the kiss instead he wanted to make sure they were both in control, in complete sync.

And it went on and on until Derek couldn’t breathe anymore and he let go of Stiles’ mouth and as he did, Stiles took in a deep breath at the same time Derek did as if they had been holding it in all this time.

Stiles looked back at Derek as Derek looked into Stiles’s eyes, now the color of dark coffee and Derek didn’t like it, he wanted them to be honey, or whiskey or champaign and he wanted them to look at him and hold him in a way that he hadn’t been held before.

“I…” begin Stiles, but didn’t say anything –as if he didn’t know what to say and Derek took it as his cue to break the silence.

“That’s why you came?” he asked, closing the door that he hadn’t realized had been left open until now.

“I, uh, yeah,” said Stiles, his eyes getting darker and damn it if Derek hated that. “But I was not expecting that reaction, I, uh, thought you might kick me out,” he finished with a small laugh.

And Derek wanted to say that he still might, but Stiles looked so relieved that Derek realized he didn’t want to kick him out.

He really didn’t.

For the first time, he didn’t want to kick an uninvited guest out of his house, and he had plenty before and they had all attempted what Stiles had just done and Derek had kicked them all out before they had the chance to even put his lips against his.

He didn’t really understand what not kicking Stiles out just yet meant or if it even meant something, but he didn’t feel the need to kick him and push him as far away as he could; although he thought maybe he should. It wasn’t just anyone after all, it was Stiles, his intern.

His intern who he had just undergone a make out session with and maybe he should ask him to leave.

Maybe he should ask him to forget about that and to forgive him for not stopping himself.

Maybe he should ask him to not come back.

Maybe he should just take the chance and go all in.

All out.

Bare all.

But he couldn’t.

“I’m sorry,” was all Stiles said hanging his head in shame and Derek once again felt the need to stop him from doing that – feeling bad about what happened.

When he thought about it, nothing really had happened and he didn’t see why they just couldn’t put it aside and forget about it.

But he didn’t because why would he; he was Derek after all and if there was something he was good at –something he had perfected over the years –was making bad choices; it was sort of his specialty.

“Don’t be,” he said raising his index finger to Stiles’ forehead and pushing it back up. “It’s no big deal; whatever that was about, it’s fine,” he continued looking at Stiles right in the eyes, “come, let’s have some wine.”

And he led him to his sitting area where he already had fruit and cheese and wine out. It was initially just for him, but he didn’t really mind sharing; he went to the kitchen and brought another wine glass for Stiles and they sat on the pillows around the table and it was more than awkward, but Derek felt like he owed Stiles some sort of proof that what had just happened, though it was unexpected and certainly something Derek didn’t mind doing again, could be easily forgotten and they could move past it.

It wasn’t easy, at first, but Stiles moved on – along, and he sat next to Derek and though he was visibly uncomfortable, he managed to settle in and before Derek realized it, Stiles was more lax and he joked around and drank and Derek did too.

Stiles begin to tell Derek about his essay he was working on and Derek gave him some pointers and shared with him some of his experiences at Princeton and about how Professor Deaton had made his life a living hell and it turned out that Stiles also had Deaton as his core teacher and Stiles, unlike Derek at the time, really enjoyed Deaton’s lectures.

And they talked about how Stiles wanted to go back to California sometime soon and Derek shared that his family was originally from California too, but that he had never really lived there. He had been there several times as a child, but New York was his home and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else to which Stiles said it was the same for him when it came to California and if he didn’t need Princeton, if his dream hadn’t been Princeton, he would have gone home long time ago.

And the conversations went on and on and on and the more Derek learned about Stiles, the more he wanted to know all of Stiles.

Derek wanted to know where Stiles came from –how he had become Stiles? He wanted to know when he moved here and who he had lived with. How Stiles had gotten used to living in New York and how he had been able to move here in the first place and he wanted to know if Stiles had a roommate he got back to every day and what he ate for dinner, what he did for fun, who he spent his time with.

He wanted to know so much and yet he could only get so little and he felt limited and desperate at the same time that he forgot that he didn’t want to make it weird between him and Stiles and he forgot that it might be wrong of him to do anything with Stiles and he forgot that what he was about to do was against what he believed in.

Derek forgot all.

He wanted to forget all.

He just wanted to take.

Derek leaned in to Stiles who rested against the couch, staring at him through amber eyes and again, and for the tenth time that night, Derek felt the need to pull Stiles against him.

He leaned in and Stiles followed suit.

Derek knew it was too soon, like it had been with many and yet it felt so different.

It felt better; easier.

It was like breathing.

It was like sleeping; heavy and blissful.

And it wasn’t just because he had an unnerving need to have Stiles in his arms again, it was because he wanted to bury himself in Stiles and have Stiles against him right at that moment.

Derek wanted to shield Stiles in his arms.

And so he did.

He leaned all the way in, not taking his time, not planning it; he just went all in and claimed Stiles mouth. He moved against it slowly and raw and Stiles did too raising his hand against Derek’s face moving it from his face, down his throat, to the back of his neck resting it there.

And again, Derek felt the need to be closer, so close, that he pulled Stiles against him, pulling him up and on to his lap where Stiles stayed as he kissed Derek harder, firmer, greedier and Derek felt a jolt from his neck down to his now hard dick.

He wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist pulling him closer to him so as to feel his entire body against his and Stiles moaned against his lips and Derek lost his trend of thought. He wanted to hear that again, he wanted to make Stiles moan again, and he wanted nothing more than to wrap his whole being against Stiles.

Derek wanted to take the chance at having it all in just that short amount of time; he wanted to have as much as he could get and if he failed again, and he probably would because it was him after all, he would have at least taken that chance again.

It was better for him to put himself out there in the open for Stiles to take than to hide and keep wondering if he would have ever been able to give Stiles his all and he took the choice to allow himself this one failure, if it was meant to be failure, and he did what he wanted to do and didn’t stop.

He sat up, Stiles still on his lap, and looked at him through heavy lids, his breath staggering, and Stiles eyes were champaign, they were warm and clear and they were focused on Derek and he wanted to drown in them again and again and again until he couldn’t breathe anymore, until he couldn’t give any more.

Derek stood up pulling Stiles with him and Stiles followed, cautiously, and he led him to his room leaving the door opened, and Stiles followed and Derek wondered if Stiles wanted to get away, if Stiles didn’t expect this much, if Stiles wanted Derek to stop and Derek did what he never expected himself to do.

“I’ve invited you in,” said Derek in an almost whisper. “All the way in and I know this might not have been what you were expecting, if you were even expecting anything, but now you are here and I want you to stay, I shouldn’t want you to; I should probably ask you to leave and to forgive me for even taking it this far, but I would be lying to you if I did that – I would be lying to myself, and I haven’t done this in a while and maybe it’s not even the time for me to do it and maybe I’m going too fast and I should probably stop and you should probably do the same.

“But if you stay, if you want to stay, I am going to kiss you until I can’t anymore. I am going to hold you against me as if you are the only thing I have left to hold; I am going to get high off your scent and drunk off your touch and I am going to destroy every wall you might have had up until now, and I will sync myself to you, I will follow and I will lead and I will become what you want me to be as long as you let me be what you need.

“If you don’t want me to do that and it’s okay if you don’t want that, I want you to leave because that’s what’s probably best; it’s up to you to decide. And if you leave, it won’t even be anything than what it was and I will never cross that line again and I will apologize to you again at another time and I will move on and continue as if nothing happened and I will ask you to do the same,” he finished looking back at Stiles who stared at him through wide eyes.

And Derek held his breath.

He had never done what he did just then but he felt like he needed to do that now more than ever and he didn’t know what Stiles would choose and it was the most uncomfortable feeling he had ever felt before and he stared at Stiles waiting for his decision.

And Stiles did what Derek, a big part of Derek, was hoping he did: he closed the door.

He closed the door and walked up to Derek, slowly, taking off his shoes, and unbuttoning his plaid shirt, never taking his eyes off of Derek who just stared at him in wonder, in anticipation, and Stiles moved incredibly, painfully slow until he was out of his shirt and he was walking up to Derek baring his chest exposing the place where Derek wanted to live in and he placed his hands against Derek’s neck before he spoke, ever so slowly, ever so gently.

“I’m going to hold you to everything you just said,” he whispered, his voice the softest velvet sending jolts of electricity through Derek’s whole being before he put his lips against Derek’s.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this has been the longest chapter yet –and I really thank you for continuing to read and for all the kudos you are leaving here. Thanks guys, next chapter is coming and the story is developing more and I’m making it broader– so excited! xoxo


	5. Taking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is a difference between having and taking; but honestly, Derek just wants both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if any one was waiting for me to update this, i apologize for the delay. i had been feeling really down for the past two months -so, this took longer. i am feeling better these days and i've started writing again so, here it is.
> 
> enjoy ♥

“Second night in a row,  
Back in trouble,  
I don't get it,  
Gotta keep it down,  
'Cause the lobby called,  
We ignore it (yes, I know),  
Getting better,

Hey!

When it comes to men it's known,  
That I end up choosing wrong,  
'Cause I always trip and fall,  
The same old rock, repeat and go back.”

\- _Did It Again_ , Shakira

“Is this okay?” asked Derek as he pushed Stiles against his bed and Stiles groaned, closing his eyes.

It was more than okay, it was so much more and not enough, and Derek needed to pull Stiles closer and Stiles needed to keep himself together –as he was feeling himself come undone in Derek’s arms and it wasn’t nearly close to ending.

It was only the beginning and Stiles was so greedy, so self involved that he was desperately holding on to Derek for dear life and he was losing himself in Derek, in his body, in his hair, and he had nothing to hold on to –nothing to pull him back.

He let Derek take him and hold him.

He let him have all of him.

Stiles was feeling lost, he was feeling defeated and he couldn’t care less because at that moment, _at the moment_ , Derek kissed his neck and moved to his chest, and to his navel and down his cock, and Stiles couldn’t care what happened to him.

Stiles didn’t care that he couldn’t breathe; he didn’t care that he was suffocating and he didn’t care that he was making the most obscene noises he had ever made in his whole life. All he cared about was making sure that he gave as much as he received, that he pushed as much as Derek pulled and that he have as much as Derek gave.

They were both so wrapped in each other, in the moment, in the now, that he had lost track of when Derek had lost his shirt and _God_ , Derek’s chest and torso were the most beautiful things Stiles had ever seen and Stiles felt the need to kiss and lick every inch of Derek’s body, so he did just that; he flipped Derek on his back and went to work.

He moved from Derek’s mouth to his neck, down to his chest and to his torso down to his navel and licked and kissed and bit until he was at Derek’s cock and he didn’t stop, he kept going wrapping his hands around it, putting his lips against it, softly and firmly, he sucked the tip –took it in and out and moved his tongue around it, teasingly, until he felt Derek’s hands against the back of his head encouraging him to keep going and so he did.

Stiles took all of Derek in, slowly; moving his hands around it as he went up and down on Derek’s cock and Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles’ head tighter, pulling at his hair bringing him back on top of him.

Derek immediately kissed him, messy and needy.

And Stiles was dying.

It wasn’t enough.

Nothing was enough.

He wanted so much and Derek gave him more than Stiles’ ever thought he would be able to have and it made him so full, so overcome and yet, he wanted more.

Derek flipped Stiles on his back all the while keeping his mouth attached to his and he pinned Stiles against the bed. Stiles couldn’t help but grind against Derek again and again searching for friction, for release and he felt Derek smile against his lips before he spoke.

“I’m going to take my time,” whispered Derek against Stiles’ cheek and he quivered.

Every inch of his body ached for more.

And Derek held him, and moved him, and made him feel like he had never felt before.

His head was spinning, his heart was suffocating, and he was falling apart.

Tears filled his eyes as Derek moved on top of him, in him and it was ending, and it wasn’t and he kept going and Stiles kept taking and he felt greedy, so, so incredibly greedy, that he didn’t care about himself, he didn’t care about his body, he only cared about his pleasure, about providing enough of it for Derek.

He closed his eyes as the tears strolled down his face.

––

It was over.

And it wasn’t.

Stiles could still feel Derek’s breath against his neck and he could still hear him moan his name; and he could feel his hands wrapped around his hipbones, and he missed it already.

He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t feel his heart anymore; Stiles was sure it had exploded and he had died along the way.

And it was over.

And it wasn’t.

And he needed to leave, but he didn’t want to; he couldn’t even get up.  But, he move slightly, slowly, getting ready to pull himself up when Derek wrapped his arm around his waist and pulled him closer to him.

“Stay,” was all Derek said in a small, barely audible whisper and Stiles died again.

“Is that okay?” he heaved.

“I wouldn’t have said it if it wasn’t,” said Derek pulling Stiles closer and Stiles nodded in response. “Sleep; I feel so tired. Sleep and I will take you home in the morning.”

And again Stiles nodded and he allowed himself to rest against Derek’s chest.

If Stiles were to be honest, he felt better staying next to Derek and not leaving in the middle of the night. It was foolish, but he felt blissful as he felt himself breathe in Derek’s scent. He wrapped his arm around Derek’s torso and he closed his eyes.

  
He let his heart settle and he listened to Derek’s small breaths and his small heaves in between and he swore he could hear the quick padam-padam of Derek’s heart, or it might’ve just been his own.

Either or, he let that lull him to sleep.

He closed his eyes and he took a deep breath against Derek’s chest, wrapping his arm tighter around Derek.

He exhaled as he felt Derek run his hand through his hair.

And he trembled at the touch, and he felt Derek pull the blanket and wrap it around him before he was completely out.

It was over.

And it wasn’t.

/*/

Derek woke to an empty bed and to the ray of sunlight creeping in through his windows.

He sat up almost immediately, abruptly, remembering that he had promised to drive Stiles home before morning and he didn’t.

He had fallen like he hadn’t in a while.

Derek had dreamt of nothing and he had slept soundly and comfortably.

Last night had been different from anything he had experienced up until that moment and it was hard for him to believe that last night had actually happened; Stiles had slept with him.

It hadn’t been weird or awkward; it had been the opposite.  He had had Stiles against him throughout the whole night and he had held him as tight as he could, as tight as he dared –as tight as Stiles allowed him to and he had felt whole.  Thinking about it now, he felt a bit ridiculous. Could he have been that lonely to feel whole with Stiles for just one night?  And more importantly, would he be able to keep what happened a-just-one-time-thing?

Derek got up and out of bed, grabbed his phone and dialed Stiles’ number –not because he missed him next to him already, okay, fine, maybe a little; but more than anything, he wanted to know if he had gotten home okay.

He dialed his number, but Stiles didn’t pick up; his call went straight to voicemail.

Derek sighed and texted Stiles.

_Did you get home okay?_

He hoped in the shower, put on his clothes, got his cup of coffee, and then checked his phone; but Stiles had not responded.

He sighed, yet again.

It was ridiculous.

Derek didn’t sigh –he was never the sighing type, but between Friday and today, he had done one too many things he usually didn’t do and it was starting to drive him up a wall. It was insane that he was worried about Stiles more than he was worried about the stock market on a Monday morning –he didn’t even check it; instead, he ran out the door and to his car.

His sudden need to be in his office was overpowering.  And the funny thing was that he made it to his office in record time –before Laura and Erica got there and that was saying a lot, since they practically _lived_ in the office; and Stiles was still not there.

He sat at his desk staring out the window –thinking about last night, as how it had all happened and he realized that he was reading too much into it; he was not only being clingy, but he was also going against his rule: sex? Yes. Dating? No.

Sex with Stiles had been amazing.

It had been what he had expected and so much more.

Stiles gave as much as Derek did.

Derek didn’t bend Stiles –didn’t dent him, didn’t break him –he worshiped his body for one whole night, and the thing was, _the thing was_ , Stiles had done the same.  
Where Derek moved, Stiles followed; where Stiles pushed, Derek pushed back; where Derek bit, Stiles kissed and it had been more amazing than anything Derek had ever had and if he could have that, just that, he would be happy.

All he needed was that and nothing else.

The simple sync of his body to Stiles’ was all he could focus on, was all he could want and he realized that he didn’t want to make what happened a one-time thing; no, he wanted, if possible, to repeat it again and again and again, until he grew tired of it, until he couldn’t see himself wanting Stiles anymore, until he could have had too much Stiles that he couldn’t have any more of it.

Derek realized that having Stiles one time, made him want him again.

He didn’t think he’d be able to see Stiles as just Stiles anymore.

He couldn’t wait to see Stiles and see where they stood.  If Stiles wanted the pure physical chemistry they had and only that, Derek would give him that, all of it.

He pulled his cell phone and dialed Stiles’ number again, but no answer. and Derek huffed.

He threw his phone across the room and closed his eyes.

__

“Derek we need to talk,” said a distant voice and Derek ignored it.

“Derek!” said the voice again and this time, he opened his eyes.

“Seriously,” said Laura shaking her head. “If you’re going to sleep, stay in your apartment.”

“If I stay in my apartment, you’ll keep calling me to come down to the office,” said Derek adjusting himself and Laura rolled her eyes.

“You’re here early,” she said. “Is it because you got too much sleep or because you had no sleep at all?”

“Both,” he said. “Soph?”

“She’s fine –Erica took her to school,” she said taking a seat across from him. “We have a problem.”

And Derek nodded, but said nothing otherwise.

“Aren’t you going to ask what the problem is?”

He laughed. _Did he ever?_

“Right,” she scoffed. “I forget you don’t care.”

“I care,” he said. “Just not right at this moment.”

“Grow up, Derek,” she said. “If you don’t care now, you will never care –but you are here, you decided to be here; the least you can do is help with the growth of our little empire.”

“ _Little_?” he asked sarcastically. “There’s enough to support more than fifteen generations of Hales to come and you call it a _little_ empire? Have some _respect_ , Laura.”

“With the way Uncle Peter blows money everywhere he goes, do you really think it will last? With the way Malia sprinkles it all over the freaking forests, do you think there will be enough? With the way Cora spends it on nothing, but designer clothes and trips to Europe; do you really think there will be enough to go around for more than the next generation, Derek?”

“Hey,” said Derek getting up from his chair. “I can’t control how the family spends the money.”

Laura sighed.

“I know,” she said. “But you can make more.”

And now he sighed.

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but haven’t we made more money in three years than what dad made in twenty? And you are trying to tell me we don’t make enough? And more over, we are _attorneys_ , Laura, did you forget?”

“We _are_ attorneys Derek, but we are also a business, a brand, an empire, you know damn well that we are more than attorneys, Derek.  And right now, we have a problem,” she continued and he sat back down. “Martin is coming to the office. Last time she was here, she wanted to withdraw her investment; if she is here again for the same reason, I am going to shoot myself.”

Derek scrunched his eyebrows.

Martin was a royal pain.

She was calculative, manipulative, and more than anything, she was intuitive.

If she ever had a feeling about something, she would follow it and reinvest, reshape, rebuild, remake, nothing was ever fine with her, and that was the reason she was making so much money at such a young age.

“We’ll convince her to stay,” he said. “We’ll convince her to invest more –we do that every time she comes, why are you making a big deal about it now?”

Laura shook her head. “I have a bad feeling this time.”

Derek rubbed his forehead.

“Laura, it’s not like we _need_ her,” he said. “We have more than one person wanting to invest in the Hales, there’s no need for you to worry; we can deal with whatever happens, breathe.”

And Laura sighed. “I would feel much better if –”

“Martin’s here,” said Erica opening the door and both, Derek and Laura, stood up almost immediately.

“You go on first,” said Derek. “I need to check on something.”

“Don’t you _dare_ try to skip this meeting, Derek, or I swear to God I will cut off all your funding for a whole year,” threaten Laura.

“I will be there, not to worry, plus,” he paused, “threatening me with money doesn’t work, Laura, I have more than enough to be fine without the Hale fortune for the rest of my life and my daughter’s, and my grandchildren, and my great-grandchildren and their grandchildren, and great-grandchildren.”

He walked out the door and to the junior associates’ cubicles looking for Stiles, but he didn’t see him, he didn’t hear his voice, he wasn’t there.

And, oddly, not seeing Stiles there worried him.

He walked back to his office to get his phone and then to the conference room and as he did, he ran into Isaac.

“Isaac,” he said. “Have you seen my intern?”

“Stiles?” asked Isaac, scrunching his eyebrows and Derek didn’t respond.

Did he _have_ another intern?

“Ah, no,” responded Isaac after noticing Derek’s blank expression.

“When you do, if you do, tell him to get his butt in conference room 10A,” he said not waiting for a response, instead, he ran to the elevator and to the conference room to meet with Martin.

/*/

Stiles ran to the elevator, but it was in floor fifteen and he needed to get to floor ten immediately; so, he ran up the emergency stairs.

He couldn’t believe he was late.

The fact that he didn’t know where his cell phone was upset him to no end, not only because he had no way of contacting Scott, but because he didn’t have a regular clock at his apartment and the only thing that he had was his cell phone, and that was the reason why he didn’t get up on time.

He remembers getting home from Derek’s and taking a shower, he felt dirty –in a very good kind of way, but he felt like if he didn’t shower, he would drown in his own skin. And so, he showered for almost a whole hour before he realized it.

After that, he went back to bed and didn’t wake up at seven like he needed to. Instead, he woke at 8:50 am.

He put on the first thing he found and then he ran to his jeep, but of course, traffic was already really bad and it took him forever to make it to the office and he was terrified. He couldn’t afford to get fired, not because of the money –he needed the money, he did, but he needed to complete his internship more than anything else.

Stiles made it to Derek’s office only to find it empty and he sighed in relief.

And so, maybe Derek wasn’t coming back to the office today.

He sighed again leaning against the wall outside of Derek’s office. Nothing was more comforting than knowing he made it home free.

That is, until Isaac interrupted his small moment of bliss.

“Hey, Stiles,” Isaac said coming to stand next to him. “You’re really late today; everything alright?” 

And Stiles nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “Traffic.”

And Isaac nodded.

“Derek wants you to go to conference room 10A,” said Isaac with a crocked smile. “Someone very important to the firm is here and you,” he continued looking at him up and down, “are not only late, but you are sweaty as hell.”

“Shit,” said Stiles running to the elevator.

“Fuck,” he said now, as he made it to the tenth floor. “ _Fuck_.”

He had practically ran up three flights of stairs in less than a minute and he felt like he was dying, he needed water, he needed air, he needed to sit down.

But he couldn’t.

Instead, he begin to look for 10A, and as he did, he ran into Derek who was outside a room, the phone pressed against his ear.

“Stiles,” said Derek as soon as he saw him. “Where the _hell_ have you been?”

But Stiles couldn’t answer.

He just stared back at Derek, mouth half opened.

“Where have you been?” asked Derek again.

And again, Stiles didn’t answer; he couldn’t.

“Stiles,” continued Derek. “Are you alright?”

This time, Derek looked at Stiles more closely, his eyes going wide and Stiles nodded; but, apparently, that wasn’t enough for Derek because he put his hand against Stiles’ neck and suddenly, Stiles was on fire.

“Look at you,” whispered Derek, placing his other hand on the other side of Stiles. “You are a complete mess.”

“Sorry,” heaved Stiles licking his lips and Derek tightened his grip around him.

“You weren’t there this morning,” whispered Derek and for some reason, Stiles felt as if Derek had been worried about him. “I told you to wait.”

“I –” begin Stiles, but then he stopped.

He didn’t know what to say, what was good to say in this situation. _‘Sorry, I felt a bit of shame and I didn’t want to see you in the morning.’_

_‘I didn’t want you to watch me and my walk of shame.’_

_‘I wanted to stay, I did, but I didn’t want you to see me sleeping next to you.’_

He didn’t know what was right to say at this moment.

So, he did what he always did; he bit his lip and swallowed everything else.

Derek stared at him through wide eyes and Stiles wanted to close his eyes and rest his head against Derek’s chest, bury himself in the soft of his blazer and he wanted Derek to wrap his arms around him like he had done last night.

He wanted so much knowing he could get nothing.

“Hey,” whispered Derek pulling Stiles towards him, but just then Laura called for Derek.

“Derek,” said Laura and Stiles stepped as far as he could from Derek and Derek just turned slightly to face his sister.

“Yes?” he responded.

“We are done,” she said, as Erica walked out the conference room and Stiles turned around, getting ready to leave. He couldn’t let them see him like this.

“Stiles,” said a voice, so familiar that he couldn’t move a single muscle.

The voice hit him like a sharp knife.

It made his hands shake, it made the hairs at the back of his neck stand on edge and he could do nothing, but stand there.

“Stiles,” called the voice again and he closed his eyes.

He hadn’t heard that voice in years.

He was sure he had already forgotten it –he was sure he had stopped feeling that voice so close to his heart –he was sure.

But now he wasn’t.

It struck him like lightning and froze him in place.

And he turned as a hand was placed on his arm.

/*/

Derek didn’t know what the hell was going anymore.

First, he was in the conference room with Martin discussing the expansion of her contract with vendors –the closing on her new building, the quitclaim deed and warranty deed and the taxing of it and it was all useless chatter that Derek didn’t need to hear.

Yes, the Hales were more than attorneys, they were a business and much more –but at the same time, he wanted none of it.

And he kept looking at the door hoping that Stiles would come through at any minute, but he didn’t.

Five minutes passed and nothing.

Then ten.

And twenty.

The seconds kept ticking away and Derek was beginning to feel uneasy, he didn’t quite understand why, but he felt worried, and the unsettling feeling of anxiety was slowly starting to creep in on him and it he was so close to going mad.

He waited and waited until he couldn’t take it anymore. And he ended up excusing himself from the meeting with the excuse that he needed to use the restroom.  
But the truth was that he needed to call Stiles again.

He needed to make sure that Stiles was fine –that he was coming, that he was here.

So he called Stiles only to have his call go directly to voicemail.

And he called again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

He called and called but Stiles didn’t answer and that only drove him madder and he was ready to go look for him, he was, but as he turned to leave, Stiles walked up the hallway and Derek was so relieved, so full, it was almost unreal.

Derek didn’t know where all of it was coming from and yet, he knew that it was the most important feeling he had felt in a really long time just by feeling his heart untangle in relief.

He walked up to Stiles because he needed to touch him, to feel him, to make sure that Stiles was there, that he was real, that he was fine and that he was there in one piece.

It was incredible, and he surprised himself, but he needed reassurance that Stiles was fine and he could only do so by touching him.

And as he did, he lost focus. He forgot where they were, and nothing mattered to him other than the needed to have Stiles against him at once.

Stiles looked so lost –so beat, that Derek wanted to shield him.

As he was about to wrap his arms around him, Laura came out of the conference room, Erica and Lydia following behind her.

Stiles backed away, and he was ready to leave and Derek was ready to follow, but then, Martin did the unthinkable.

She called for Stiles.

Not once.

Not twice.

But she called his name like a secret, like a weapon and Derek was shocked –not just by the uneasy quickening of his heartbeat, but also by the impact her voice had on Stiles as it froze him; and Derek had the sudden urge to take Stiles’ hand and lead them back to his office.

And he would have if Martin wouldn’t have beaten him to Stiles.

She past him in a blink and suddenly, she was in front of Stiles, her hand against his arm.

“It is you,” she said her eyes getting brighter.

“Lydia,” Stiles whispered, and she closed her eyes before wrapping her arms around him and Stiles’ arms wrapped around her almost immediately, as if by pure instinct –as if by habit and Derek didn’t like it.

“I missed you so much,” said Martin, wrapping her arms tighter around Stiles and Derek was collapsing.

“Impossible,” replied Stiles and Derek was suffocating.

“You changed your number,” she continued, still in his arms.

“You changed your address,” he said pulling her closer to him.

And Derek felt like a fool; to think that for a slight second he was ready to wrap Stiles in his arms made him feel ashamed, embarrassed and completely stupid.

Laura came to stand next to Derek as did Erica, and that’s when Martin let go of Stiles.

“You know each other?” asked Laura, and Derek was so grateful because he really didn’t want to ask the question himself.

“Yes,” replied Stiles.

“Walk me to my car,” Martin said to Stiles, ignoring their presence, which was typically how Martin acted around them, but she immediately wrapped her arm around Stiles’ and he nodded in response.

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Derek –he wasn’t going to allow it; whatever was going on between the two, he wouldn’t let it happen, at least, not during working hours. “But I need Stiles. Erica will walk you to your car.”

And Martin arched her eyebrow.

“That will be fine, Mr. Hale,” she said. “If I wanted Erica to walk me to my car, I would have asked _her_.”

And Derek’s jaw hardened almost automatically.

The Hales let Martin have it as she wished, but this, Stiles, was something he wasn’t going to concede on.

“I insist –” he begin, but Laura interrupted him.

“Stiles, take Ms. Martin to her car please,” she said wrapping her arm around Derek, as if trying to restrain him, but that only made him madder.

“Of course,” he said, and he turned to lead her to the elevator not before resting his eyes on Derek for a split second.

Once Stiles was out of sight, Laura let go of his arm.

“What the hell was that?” asked Erica.

“No idea,” replied Laura.

But Derek said nothing.

“I didn’t know that Stiles knew people in high places; I thought just my intern came from the milk and honey of the rich,” Laura whispered.

“The more you know,” said Erica as Derek stalked away furious.

He went down the stairs, to his office, and locked the door.

––

Stiles went to his office after almost fifteen minutes and honestly, Derek didn’t understand why it had taken that long to take Martin to her car.

He knocked on his door and Derek let him in almost instantly.

“Lock the door,” he said turning back to his desk, not bothering to make sure Stiles did.

The boy said nothing, and he just stood there biting his bottom lip as Derek stared at him through narrow eyes.

 _‘Say something,’_ thought Derek.

“Why were you late?” he asked bleakly.

 _‘Why did it take you fifteen minutes to take Martin to her car?’_ he thought.

“I, uh, to be honest,” he begin running his fingers through his hair. “I overslept.”

And Derek didn’t believe him.

“How could that have happened?” he asked.

 _‘How do you know her?’_ he thought.

“I lost my phone,” said Stiles, “only I didn’t know I had lost it until I couldn’t find it this morning.”

“Oh,” said Derek.

That explained why he hadn’t picked up his phone calls all morning, but he said nothing he just stared at Stiles not saying a word –not wanting him to know he had been worried sick, not wanting him to know he was angry at the way he had wrapped his arms around Martin, and he waited for him to say something else, but of course he didn’t.

“We don’t accept tardiness in this firm,” said Derek.

And Stiles nodded.

“People get fired back and ford for being late,” he continued and again Stiles nodded. “We are an empire, and we expect nothing less than perfection; and it may not seem like a lot, but one _weak_ link can potentially bring down a wonderfully structured firm that has taken years to stand as tall as it does,” he continued in a hard tone.

And Stiles hung his head.

“However, I am going to let this go,” he finished.

And Stiles nodded, but said nothing otherwise.

It was nothing like Stiles.

Either Derek was shaking him up or Martin had broken him.

And Derek was so greedy that he preferred to think that Stiles couldn’t look at him because of him and not because of rich girl.

“How do you know her?” he asked before he realized, and he wished he could take it back.

He didn’t care –he didn’t _want_ to care.

“Lydia?” asked Stiles finally looking at Derek.

And Derek just stared back at him. He could call her Lydia, when the rest of the world had to call her Ms. Martin? Un – _fucking_ –believable.

“Uh, I’ve known her since I was a child,” he said running his fingers through his hair.

“ _How_?”

And Stiles just stared at him, through wide eyes.

“We kind of grew up together,” he whispered after a minute of silence.

And Derek knew there was more, but he didn’t care to know –it was _better_ that he didn’t know.

The only thing he wanted was to know why Stiles had left so early; without waiting for him like he had asked him to.

“Why did you leave?” he asked and Stiles blushed a rosy red, and he gaped at Derek.

“Why didn’t you wait?”

And Stiles didn’t respond.

“ _Why_?”

Again, Stiles didn’t respond, just blushed deeper.

And the thing was Derek found this endearing.

He got up and walked towards Stiles, slowly, not wanting to cause Stiles to want to walk out the door.

“How come you didn’t even let me know you were leaving?” he asked and Stiles just stared at him at the same time that Derek wound up in front of him.

“Did you not want me to take you home?” he asked as he reached his hand to the side of Stiles’ neck and Stiles leaned in to the touch.

And that was all it took for Derek to want to have Stiles wrapped around him again.

He wanted to have him in his arms as tightly as possible; he wanted Stiles to forget the arms he had had around him not too long ago and to drown in his.

“I didn’t want to be a bother,” replied Stiles straightening his body.

And Derek ran his fingers down Stiles’ face, and he felt Stiles tremble against his touch; he ran his thumb across his quivering lip, lightly, and Stiles closed his eyes, and Derek smiled before wrapping his free arm around the boy’s waist, pulling him closer to him, his other hand still resting on Stiles’ chin, pulling his face closer to his.

But he didn’t kiss him –he wanted to, he was dying to, but he didn’t do it; he wouldn’t do it unless Stiles opened his eyes.

“You _not_ waking me up and having me drive you home was a bother,” whispered Derek and Stiles opened his eyes, they were deep amber and Derek was sinking in the beauty of them.

“I don’t mean to be a bother,” replied Stiles, his face still a rosy pink.

“If you don’t want to be a bother,” said Derek resting his nose on Stiles temple and running it down his cheek, to his jaw. “Then just do as your told,” he finished kissing Stiles.

And it was like it had been the night before.

Fresh.

New.

Addicting.

Derek couldn’t stop.

He didn’t want to stop, he deepened the kiss and Stiles reached for Derek’s hands pulling on them, but he didn’t let go of him; he didn’t want to, he refused to.

Instead, he pulled him tighter, closer and Stiles pulled back, but Derek didn’t let him move –not even an inch.

And after a solid five seconds, Stiles gave in.

He stopped pushing Derek away and wrapped his arms around him, hungrily.

And Derek stopped then, leaving Stiles hanging.

“I’m going to take everything you have,” whispered Derek as he lead them to the nearest wall, “I’m going to swallow it all and leave nothing behind, and keep you coming back –making it almost impossible for you not to come back,” he finished before kissing him again.

 

Stiles moaned as Derek spread his legs with his thigh and he felt him harden and that was all it took for Derek to start taking off his clothes.

“Wait,” panted Stiles, but Derek didn’t.

He took off his tie and let it drop to the ground, all the while keeping his eyes on Stiles, who could only stare back at him, not moving, not walking away.

“If you want to leave, if you want me to stop, if you want to wait,” begin Derek as he unbuttoned his vest, “now would be the time for you to walk away,” he said as he took off his vest and threw it on the nearest chair.

“What will it be, then?” he asked, as he unbutton the collar of his shirt.

And, again, Derek gave Stiles time to leave, to turn him down –to leave and yet, he expected him to stay.

He wanted him to stay.

And Stiles took three steps forward.

“In your office?” he asked squinting his eyes.

“Would you rather me take you to the men’s room and take you there?” asked Derek, still working on his shirt.

And Stiles stared at him with wild, dark eyes, leaving Derek restless and in anticipation.

He wanted to be in control.

He wanted to be the one to have and take.

He wanted to be the one to move them.

And yet, he could only follow.

He could only do as Stiles allowed him to do.

He could only take it as far as Stiles would allow him to.

And it was _infuriating_.

 _Demeaning_ , as he held his breath and waited on Stiles to decide, yet again.

And he didn’t like it.

He hated how his heart stopped completely, and then raced as soon as Stiles rested his eyes on him for just one second.

Was he really having as much as he was giving?

And, would he be able to stop giving if Stiles didn’t want to take anymore?

Derek waited.

And as he did, he went back to being that twenty-five year old in the bar. He went back to being that crazed boy that didn’t care about anything other than pleasing and he went back to being that naïve child that could be swept off his feet with one single touch –that could be swayed with one single look, convinced with one single kiss.

And he wondered if he was making a wrong decision again.

But as he did, Stiles took off his blazer and threw it on the ground, as he took two steps closer to him. He wrapped his arms around Derek, his eyes as warm as honey and he smiled, before he brushed his lips lightly against Derek’s.

“Guess the place and time doesn’t matter when you’re a Hale,” he whispered and Derek smiled pulling Stiles up against him, and he wrapped his legs around Derek’s torso, who walked them back to his desk.

And as he did, he realized it wasn’t the same.

He was in control –as was Stiles.

“As long as you agree, nothing else matters,” he said unbuckling Stile’ belt.

“ _Derek_ ,” moaned Stiles as he moved down the boy’s neck, and that got Derek more worked up than he would like to admit, as he hadn’t expected Stiles’ voice to have that kind of power over his whole body.

And it was the start and it was the end.

They could have this, as much of it as they wanted, so long as both of them wanted it.

And it was the start of a terrible decision, Derek could just tell, but it was like him –these kind of decisions were all he knew to make and he didn’t care. He was falling, he was tripping, he was dying, but he was taking what was given to him and having more than he ever thought he would.

It was the start as he sat on his chair, Stiles on top of him guiding Derek’s cock into him and _God_ , if that wasn’t the most amazing sight.

Derek dug his fingers onto Stiles’ hips as they boy took him all on, and Stiles’ bent forward, slightly, to kiss Derek and wrapped his hands around him as someone knocked on his door, but he ignored it over and over and over until it went away.

And he wasn’t falling.

He wasn’t drowning.

He was living through Stiles’ body, breathing through Stiles’ lungs, and drinking through his mouth that honestly, every cell in his body felt _alive_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hoped you liked it. i will try to post the next chapter at the end of next week. as always, thank you for reading.


	6. Needing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is confused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone was waiting for me to update this, i am so so sorry it took nearly a year, i've been so busy :(
> 
> as always, enjoy <3

“Lucky you were born that far away,

So we could both make fun of distance,  
Lucky that I love a foreign land for,  
The lucky fact of your existence;

Baby I would climb the Andes solely,         
To count the freckles on your body,  
Never could imagine there were only,  
Ten million ways to love somebody,”

\- _Whenever, Wherever_ , Shakira

“So she just left like that? With no other explanation?” asked Scott, as he and Stiles had their weekly dinner over Skype.

“She said she couldn’t have dinner after all,” replied Stiles, still a bit bitter.  “She apparently had to leave for Paris and she wasn’t sure when she would be back.”

“Damn,” said Scott and a long silence followed.

Scott knew how Stiles felt about Lydia, had felt about her anyway, and Stiles knew Scott was trying his hardest to be understanding, and Stiles appreciated it.  But at the same time, Stiles felt like a big idiot once again.

Stiles had finally seen Lydia after almost seven years since the incident they had when they were eighteen, and what lead Lydia to end their friendship and leave; and the next thing he knew, he tried to avoid her.  It hadn’t been intentional, but after he heard her voice, he couldn’t help freezing the way he had.

The way she called his name reminded him of how much he had missed her voice.  It also reminded him of how much his life had depended on her voice.  One word from her and he could go from a frantic to serene.  All she ever had to do, was call his name and he was safe.

“Sorry,” she whispered in the silence of the parking lot.  “I’ve wanted to say this to you for so long now.”

Stiles said nothing; what could he say?

“I know I should have said it sooner, maybe at that same time, but well, you know me; I don’t like to apologize,” she said as she reached her had to his cheek.  “I really wish things would have been different.”

And Stiles nodded.

He also wished it would have been different.

“I’m going to be in New York for a whole week, maybe we can have dinner sometime before I leave?” asked Lydia and Stiles nodded.

They exchanged phone numbers, hugged, and Lydia left.

Stiles watched her drive away knowing he probably wouldn’t see her for another four years and though it hurt, it wasn’t the same as last time.

When Stiles was eight, his mother had passed away and it was very difficult for him to deal with it; almost unbearable.

He had sleepless nights when he cried himself to sleep and there were other nights when he just stayed up the whole night; others, he slept and woke up screaming from nightmares.  It was difficult and he was alone throughout the whole thing until Lydia noticed him.

Lydia didn’t take interest in Stiles at first, but then for some reason she started noticing Stiles and somehow, she ended up becoming a big part of Stiles’ life.  She randomly sat with Stiles one day during lunch, she didn’t say much, and she was there again the next day, and the next, until it had become routine.  She went from picking Danny as a partner for their projects to grabbing Stiles and partnering up with him.  That left Scott to partner up with Danny, and Stiles couldn’t help but feel weird about, but at least Scott didn’t mind.

Stiles found it weird and at first, he thought Lydia was trying to trick him or something, but when the embarrassments never came, Stiles begin wondering why Lydia was clinging to him the way she was.  Why she was making the effort to cheer him on during lacrosse practices; why she had encouraged him to again join the soccer team, which he had decided to quit after his mother passed away, but Lydia managed to cheer him on at every single game.  He wondered why she had become so interested in him at first until he found out why.

During the sixth grade, Stiles became even more anxious, more restless, and stress started to build up unexpectedly.  He couldn’t sleep, he couldn’t eat, he couldn’t stay still for a single second and one day on his way to his language arts class, he just exploded.

His history teacher had asked him to read the next paragraph from their book and he couldn’t do it.  He picked up the book, but couldn’t make his eyes focus, the words blurred and air begin to escape his lungs and he felt suffocated.  His hands begin to tremble and his the book went from weighing a quarter of a pound to eight kilos.

Once again, like many times before, Lydia came to his rescue.

Lydia reached her hand to his and squeezed it tightly, cleared her throat, and begin reading the paragraph in a serene voice.  No one said anything, not even the teacher, though she got up from her desk, she just nodded and sat back down.

Once the bell rang, Stiles’ rushed out of the classroom, Lydia right behind him calling his name.  But Stiles didn’t stop to wait for her; he walked faster and faster until sweat begin to drip from his face.

Lydia caught up to him, grabbed his arm, and pulled him towards to wall.  She called his name, he heard her say his name over and over, but it was faint, like an echo, and he couldn’t form his words.  He wanted to say he couldn’t breathe, that he needed to go outside, but his mouth wouldn’t move. 

The bell rang letting them know they were late for their class and next thing Stiles knew, he was on the ground unable to hear a thing, he couldn’t see anyone, he couldn’t hear anything, he couldn’t breathe.  Until suddenly, his eyes managed to focus on Lydia, who had crouched down next to him, placed both her hands on the sides of his face and she seemed to be saying something to him, but Stiles couldn’t understand it.

Gently, Lydia pulled Stiles’ forehead to hers, her hands still by the sides of his face, her lips moving all the while as if she was trying to tell him something, but her words didn’t make it to his ears.  Then, suddenly, she placed her lips against his, Stiles held his breath, closed his eyes, and suddenly, he felt lighter.  His breathing returned, his heartbeat rose –but it didn’t make him feel suffocated, he opened his eyes and Lydia was staring right at him, her hands still against his face.

He stared back at her and slowly, very slowly, he managed to formulate his words.

“How –how, did, um, did you do that?” he asked.

“I’ve read into it,” she said almost mechanically.  “Right after the first time you had it back in the fourth grade, I read into it, and I, apparently holding your breath will make you feel better when you’re having a panic attack –it will help regulate your breathing, that’s what I read.”

And at that moment, Stiles knew why Lydia had stuck around him: because she felt sorry for him.  Because she had been present that day he experienced his first panic attack back in the fourth grade and she had felt sorry for him since that time.  Stiles should have guessed it had been something along those lines.

But, and quite predictably, during the time he spent with Lydia, Stiles had fallen in love with her.  Between their group assignments, their study sessions, their movie dates, and all the time they spent doing things together, he fell for her.

He kept those feelings to himself during all the time, his feelings just bottled up and he kept them to himself –shared them with Scott, but Scott kept them to himself, so he didn’t count him.

Lydia dated Jackson for most of high school and Stiles hated every moment of it.

Stiles couldn’t stand the damn bastard.  He hated everything about him, from the way he talked, to the way he chewed, to the way he walked; but, what Stiles hated most was the way Jackson treated Lydia, but it wasn’t something he had much of a say in, and that was… _nice_ … Stiles tried not to think about it.

Ultimately, Lydia had a breaking point, and the relationship was over in an almost blink.

She was still the same, acting the same anyway, but Stiles knew she was hurting and he tried to be there for her as much as she allowed him to.  And things begin to smooth out until their graduation party came around.

On that day, Stiles and Scott drank their fill and above it, Lydia had had some sort of argument with Jackson, and she was not herself.  She stayed with Scott and Stiles the whole night and they drank more than they should have.  One thing led to another and then another until Stiles and Lydia had ended up in a hotel room.

Stiles doesn’t remember much of the night –he’s sure Lydia doesn’t either, but he remembers wanting to be with Lydia for so many years, and he dreamt about holding her against him, about making love to her, and that had been what he wanted more than anything, especially on that night.  But when it happened, he wasn’t completely conscious for it and he was sure that it wouldn’t have happened if he had been conscious for it.

Stiles woke to an empty room the next day.  And at first, he wasn’t surprised because it was typical of him to wake up alone.  But then he realized that he wasn’t in his room. 

He wasn’t in his room and he wasn’t in his bed.

He wasn’t in his bed and he was completely naked.

He was completely naked and he was alone.

He was naked alone in a hotel room.

And then it hit him.

Lydia was missing –she had been with him last night.  He remembers him and Lydia getting into her limousine, he remembers them talking.

He remembered him asking her how she was holding up; telling her that he knew it had been tough on her, the break up that is, and he remembers her tearing up and he remembers him stretching out his hand to wipe the tears.  Stiles remembered how Lydia had closed her eyes, how she had leaned in to kiss him, how he had asked her if she was okay, how his hands had trembled when she rested her forehead against his.

Stiles also remembers that they wound up in that hotel room.

The last thing he remembers is holding Lydia against him, her chest against his; he remembers her tears.  He remembers them.

Stiles had rushed to find his phone.  He called her and called her, but she never picked up.  He didn’t see her after that.  He went to her house, but her parents told him she had left for the summer –they didn’t say where, he didn’t ask.  It was obvious to him that she was avoiding him.

He knew she was avoiding him because what they had, what had happened had been a mistake.

And now, after seven years, Lydia had walked back into his life and had left just as quick as she had come.

“Are you okay though?” asked Scott, his face suddenly too close to Stiles’ screen. 

_I’m not,_ Stiles wanted to say.

“I am,” he said.  “As okay as I can be about it, I mean it’s been seven years, you know?”

And Scott nodded.

“I have to go bro,” said Scott.  “I’ll see you in one month.”

“Take care,” said Stiles and then Scott was gone.

Suddenly, Stiles felt lonely.

He didn’t like to think about what happened with Lydia.  He felt like that situation could have been avoided if all that time, he had not had wanted to be with Lydia.  If he had stopped himself from being with Lydia, then they could have continued like they had always been: friends.

But he hadn’t and now they were strangers.

It had been extremely hard the first year that he had to endure Lydia’s absence.

Stiles remembers how Scott had kept him company for their first Christmas after Lydia had left.  He was a mess.  He felt empty, as if someone had died –and it reminded him of when he lost his mom.  So he drank, and drank, and drank until Scott took the bottle from his hands and managed to lay him on his bed.

Crying, Stiles told Scott how he missed Lydia.  How he felt guilty about their fault out and how he wished he could take it back, how he wished he could turn back time just to stop himself from having Lydia that day.

He faintly remembers Scott murmuring how things had happened and they couldn’t be changed, how it wasn’t all Stiles’ fault, how he was sure things would get better; but, what he remembers most is how Scott said that the reason he felt so empty, so lonely, was because Lydia had become his friend, his sister, his mother, his love, his _home_.

Scott had been right that time.  Stiles saw everything in Lydia, thought he could have everything in Lydia, and that’s why losing her hurt so much.

Stiles sighed and reached for his phone.

Surprisingly, though he had been thinking about Lydia, he called Derek.

The phone rang once.  _Why did he call Derek?_

The phone rang twice.  _Why would Derek answer?_

The phone rang trice.  _Derek wouldn’t answer._

The phone r –

“Hey,” said Derek.

Stiles didn’t say anything.

“Stiles?”

But he didn’t say anything. 

“You there?”

Why didn’t he say anything?

Stiles heard some shuffling around, a door opening, and then the faint sound of cars driving by was heard.

“Stiles what’s wrong?” asked Derek now, and Stiles could be wrong, but Derek sounded a bit worried, like he had sounded four days ago when Stiles had reached the conference room.

“I’m sorry,” replied Stiles.  “I know you said not to call you unless you asked me to call you –I’m sorry, I completely forgot.”

“Never mind that,” said Derek in a rush.  “You okay?”

Stiles smiled.

 “Uh-hmm,” he replied.  “Just, uh, wondering what you were doing –guessed I could have texted you instead of calling, but for some reason, I called.”

Derek laughed.

“It’s fine, you can call me,” said Derek.  “I’m at a fundraiser gathering, it’s pretty hectic in here.”

Stiles shouldn’t have called.

“Oh, sorry,” he said.  “Didn’t know you were busy, I’ll let you get back to that then.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry about that, um, what are you doing?”

“Nothing.  I’m at my apartment, I have nothing to do and no plans so I’ll just watch Netflix or something.”

“What about your roommates?”

“I have none,” replied Stiles.

“I see,” said Derek.

“Yeah,” whispered Stiles.

It was awkward.

How could they have sex for two weeks straight and not even be able to have a one minute conversation?

“Anyway,” said Stiles.  “I’ll let you go now –uh, enjoy your fundraiser.”

“Stiles, wait!” replied Derek.

“Yeah?”

“I’m actually about to head out –I don’t like fundraisers that much, so um, wanna meet up?”

And Stiles did, but he didn’t know how that would sound.  Would Derek think that the only reason Stiles called was so that they could meet?  Which, if Stiles thought about it now, that had been the reason, hadn’t it?

“You sure?” he asked, half hopeful, half embarrassed.

“Yeah,” said Derek, “unless you don’t want to,” he added quickly.

“I do,” Stiles rushed.

And Derek laughed.

“Okay, send me your address and I’ll be there shortly.”

“Okay,” replied Stiles, and Derek hung up.

It had been a bit too sudden, but why did Derek want to meet at Stiles’ place?  And why had Stiles agreed?

Stiles texted Derek his address and hopped in the shower at once.

He was nervous –a bit too jumpy, and it might be because he had never had any other guest at his apartment, except for Scott, who didn’t count because technically, Scott shared and owned Stiles’ apartment, so there was that.  But aside from Scott, no one had ever been in his apartment because well, for starters, people didn’t often want to go to his apartment.  And for another thing, he didn’t want to take people into his home.

But now that Derek was coming over, he felt excited.

He rushed to clean himself off, attempted to put on some casual clothes on, and headed to his kitchen because he was worried that he would have nothing to offer Derek. He had to have some wine, or at least some juice, but as he opened his fridge, he realized he didn’t have much to offer.

He wanted to go to the convenience store real quick and buy drinks and maybe snacks, hell he didn’t have anything to eat aside from eggs, bread, milk and not almond milk at that, and ramen; which, with the way Derek looked, he doubted Derek had ever had any.

As he put his shoes on, his doorbell rang and his hands trembled.

He was here already?

He rushed to his door, flung it open to find a very, extremely, too attractive, looking Derek.

By now, Stiles was used to seeing Derek in suits, black, gray, brown, navy blue, and a tie; but today, Derek surprised him with a burgundy, with black accents suit, and a black bow tie, and glasses.  _Fuck_ , he looked so good.

“Hi,” said Derek, taking in the sight of Stiles.

Stiles couldn’t find his voice –it wasn’t like him to not say anything; even in his most awkward moments, he found his voice, but today –today, the sight of Derek left him mute.  He could just stare at Derek, burn his eyes to his face, to the way his beard had been trimmed today, how his hair was sitting perfectly on his head, how his hazel eyes sparkled, and fuck why was Stiles seeing stars?

“You gonna let me in?” asked Derek.

And Stiles _should_ let him in.

He should let him in, lead him to his bedroom, to his bed; but, instead, he just bit his lip and again, took in the sight of Derek.

How was this Stiles life?

How could Derek affect his body, his brain, so damn much?

Stiles wanted to step away, go back a minute or two, and go back to opening the door like a freaking decent person and greeting Derek, letting him in and lead him to the living room, instead of having him outside his door because Stiles’ brain couldn’t focus.

Part of Stiles wanted to shy away from Derek and his overbearing beauty; the other part, the part which he was leaning more to, wanted to grab Derek, pin him against the wall, and take off his clothes.  He wanted to be civilized about this encounter, wanted to do more than sex; but he could only think of wanting to sex Derek up.

He needed to feel Derek, to taste him, to lick him, to fuck him.

And honestly, Stiles hadn’t been greedy about someone in so long, he felt ashamed, embarrassed, and above all, horny.

“Stiles?” asked Derek.

_Yeah,_ thought Stiles.  _Okay._

Stiles pulled Derek in, spun him around, pinned him against the wall, Derek laughed, Stiles kicked the door shut, Derek laughed a bit more, and then Stiles’ was in his face, claiming his mouth.

And it reminded him a bit of how it had been the first time he had done this –that time, he was cautious.  This time, he was greedy, needy, confident and ready to have Derek in his bed moaning his name.

Stiles released Derek’s mouth.

Derek laughed some more, grabbed Stiles on both sides of his face, and stared into his eyes.

“I missed you too,” he said before pulling Stiles to his mouth again.

Stiles didn’t think Derek would say something like that –Stiles thought it, clearly his body showed it, but he didn’t think Derek would feel the same way, especially since it had silently been accepted that they would have this, sex, and nothing else.

Derek didn’t say anything, but Stiles understood it that way.

Between laughs, licks, kisses, and whispers, Stiles and Derek made it to his bedroom, already half naked.  Stiles pushed Derek on his bed, sat on top of him, kissed him from his mouth to his neck, to his firm chest, down his incredible abs, to his pant line where he stopped briefly to unbutton his pants, unzip, and pull his Calvin Klein underwear down enough so that his cock was free and out in the open, as soon as it sprung out, Stiles took it in his hands and begin sucking on it.

Stiles was in control this time.

He hadn’t been the one to suggest they meet, but it was clear he was the one that needed this most. 

He was restless, greedy, needy, and Derek did ask what the problem was, or if there was one, he didn’t say much, he just indulged him.

Their time together was easy and Stiles liked that, he did.

He couldn’t imagine it being easier than this, their sexual attraction was good, passionate, and he didn’t like to think about ending it if Derek found someone he actually wanted to date.  Part of Stiles wondered if he would be hurt by that, the other part knew he would be.

But right now, him on top of Derek, Derek holding on to his hips, moaning his name, it was easy for Stiles to forget about that.  It was easy to push those thoughts aside and focus solely on the pain, the pleasure that came with every touch, with every lick, with every kiss, with every moan.

Every moan Derek made, sent jolts of excitement through all of Stiles body and it filled his want, and his need for more grew stronger.  The first time, was fast, it didn’t last more than five minutes, and Stiles was so into it that it didn’t matter to him.  He came with a moan, and Derek laughed.

They laid side by side in silence, only the loud intake of their breath could be heard.

And that was okay, Stiles needed that, it soothed him and cleared his mind.

Derek pulled Stiles closer to him and caressed his back in a soft circular motion, no words said.  It was nice, it was relaxing, soothing, so soothing, and Stiles felt like staying in that position for a long time.

The thought of wanting this for longer periods of time hit him, and again, he tried his hardest to push them aside.  He didn’t want to think about how different it would be if they could have this on a steady slope and not as convenience.  Stiles didn’t want to have those thoughts, their relationship, if they had any, was too recent for him to have these thoughts, and yet, and yet, here he was, ready to go where Derek might need him as long as he got to have this.

Stiles pulled himself closer to Derek and tucked himself under his neck.

Derek didn’t say anything, he just held him tighter.

They stayed that way for what seemed to be a long time.

At some point, Stiles fell asleep, and when he woke up; Derek was gone.

Flashbacks to his first time with Lydia came back to him now.  He panicked, pushed off the covers, reached for his underwear, and grabbed his phone.

His hands begin to shake as he tried calling Derek.

As the phone dialed, Stiles begin to worry, and thoughts like: _Did I fuck up again?  Is he going to avoid me?  Was this a mistake?  Is it me again?_ Begin to run through his mind over and over until the phone rang for the first time.

The ringing, Stiles realized, was coming from his room.  As he called Derek, Derek’s phone went off in his room.  Stiles turned to look for it and he realized that the phone was on his desk, along with Derek’s now folded clothes.

Derek was still there.

Stiles ended the call and stepped out into the living room, but Derek wasn’t there, he walked towards the kitchen, but Derek wasn’t there either.  As he made his way to the door, he realized that his deck window was opened.

He made his way at once to find Derek, with only his underwear, standing there smoking a cigar.

“Hi” said Derek as soon as Stiles reached him.  “You fell asleep.”

“I’m sorry,” replied Stiles in a small voice.

“Don’t be,” said Derek throwing his cigar bud on the floor.  “You must be tired.”

And Stiles nodded, now that Derek mentioned it, he was tired.

“Come,” said Derek stretching his hand out for Stiles to take, which he did.  Derek tucked him against him, his body somehow warm despite the cool air.  As if by instinct, Stiles leaned closer to him, and Derek wrapped his arms around him.

Because of that, it was hard for Stiles not to want this and more.

It was hard for Stiles not to want more, not to need more, and honestly, how did Derek go from being a complete ass to being this amazing, unselfish, warm guy who, although not exclusively, is there for Stiles.

Stiles had only been at the law firm for three weeks, and at the rate he and Derek were going, it would make it extra hard for Stiles not to want to stay there; which, staying at the Hale’s firm was the his goal to begin with.

Derek kissed his neck, lightly, slowly, tenderly, and Stiles loved it.

Stiles felt like he could get used to it –like the moments he spent with Derek were his and only his, and he loved every minute of it.  Stiles felt like nothing could go wrong, they could keep this, whatever it was, going and going and going, until both had had enough.

Stiles was sure Derek liked this too because if he didn’t, then why would he be so kind, so tender with Stiles?

Stiles felt like he would go anywhere, do anything, to feel the way he did just then: safe, wanted, confident.

“Your apartment has a nice view,” said Derek in an almost whisper.

No one had ever given him what in just three weeks he was getting, and no one had showed him that wanting and needing, could be taken and given.

Stiles turned and stared at Derek right in the face, Derek stared back, and Stiles said, “It doesn’t compare to my view.”

Derek smiled, and Stiles pulled him in for a kiss.

\o/

Hello?” asked Stiles as he picked up his phone.

“Hey, Stiles, it’s me, Alison,” said Ally as he pulled his phone from his face to look at his phone again.

“Where are you calling me from?” he asked.

“Oh, yeah, so I kind of forgot my phone on my desk, can you pick it up and give it to me tonight?  I won’t have time to go back to pick it up today and my aunt is letting me use her phone to call you,” she said in a rush.

“Yeah, sure no problem, I’ll get it and give it to you later,” he replied, still a bit confused.  How did Alison even know his number by memory?

“Thanks, Stiles,” she said and hung up.

“Who was that?” asked Derek as he ran a towel across his chest.

“Alison,” replied Stiles putting his phone down and walking up to Derek.

Stiles walked up to Derek, grabbed his towel and ran it across his head to dry his hair.

“Thank you,” said Derek, pulling Stiles closer to him.

Stiles and Derek had been having these kind of encounters almost daily now for a month and half, and although Stiles really enjoyed them, he felt the need to ask Derek where this was going.

But at the same time, he didn’t want to be the clingy person in the relationship, which by the way, what kind of relationship was this even?  Stiles didn’t know.

He hadn’t told anyone about it, and he looked into it, and it seemed that he was in a friends with benefits kind of deal; which, Stiles had been in one of those before and if he were to compare it to this, whatever was going on with Derek, it wasn’t the same.  Derek didn’t make him feel the same.

The last time, or rather, the only time Stiles had been in a friends with benefits kind of deal, Stiles barely saw the girl and when he did it was just get it on, get it done, and get gone.  And with Derek, it wasn’t the same.

Despite the fact that Derek had Soph, he made sure to always make time for Stiles.

Derek took Stiles to fancy restaurants, took him shopping, to extravagant hotels, to the library where he would work and Stiles would finish his many assignments, to lavish spas, and gave him gifts, which Stiles would refuse, but Derek still made him accept.

On the days were they couldn’t meet at hotels or restaurants, Derek invited Stiles over to his home where Stiles would spend quality time with Soph and he really enjoyed that; Soph really enjoyed it too, and for some reason, Stiles thought Derek did too.

It wasn’t like that at the beginning, though.

For the first few weeks, Stiles could tell Derek didn’t feel comfortable having him around Soph and he could understand that.  At the end of the day, Derek hadn’t asked Stiles to date him or to become a part of his life.  They had just silently accepted that they could have the kind of relationship were it was all about sex.

Only, as the days went on, it became more than that and it just confused the hell out of Stiles.

“Why was she calling?” asked Derek as he kissed Stiles’ neck.

“She apparently won’t be going back to the office for today and wants me to pick up her phone for her,” mumbled Stiles, unable to speak right, what with Derek distracting him.

“How will you give it to her?” asked Derek pushing Stiles on to the bed and climbing on top of him.

“I, uh, oh God, will be… uaah, seeing her,” stopped Stiles as Derek moved down his navel, “uh, later, Derek –oh, uh, mmm, later tonight,”

“Why?” asked Derek as he took hold of Stiles’ hard cock.

“Remember how I,” stopped Stiles as Derek reached for his balls, “umh, I remember telling you about a soccer game for, uh uh uh oh, Derek, uh ah uh, tonight, remember?”

Derek nodded as he licked the top of Stiles’ cock.

“She will be there, oh my God Derek stop teasing me,” said Stiles in one breath, and Derek chuckled.

“How come?” asked Derek as he ducked his head to lick at the base of Stiles’ hips.

“She is a big soccer fan,” replied Stiles heaving.

“Is it a date?” asked Derek as he took all of Stiles in his mouth.

“Of course,” stopped Stiles to moan, “not.”

And it seemed to be the answer Derek wanted to hear because as soon as Stiles said it, he begin bobbing on Stiles’ dick as if it were the most delicious lollipop in the world, and Stiles was melting into a puddle, unable to hold his moans back.

_This is amazing_ , was the last thought that ran through Stiles’ mind before Derek begin teasing his hole with his fingers, opening him up and Stiles arched his back as soon as Derek inserted the first finger.

How was this Stiles’ life?

How did he go from wanting to focus on nothing but securing his future at the Hale’s firm to wanting nothing more than to feel Derek inside of him every day of his life?

It was crazy, it was maddening, and to be honest, it was more than what Stiles had asked for, and yet, he wanted more.  He wanted his relationship with Derek to become a constant thing, a steady thing, and he didn’t know how to ask Derek if this was even possible.

He had no problem asking Derek for more fingers, for his dick, right when he couldn’t take it anymore, but he couldn’t even ask Derek if they could sit and talk about them for more than five minutes without them turning their conversation into a sex meet.

It was unreal how much Stiles was beginning to need Derek; how he had gotten so accustomed to Derek and his strong arms around him.  He knew that what was stopping him from asking, or demanding more stability from Derek was his fear of losing what they had now.

But as always, he pushed those thoughts aside just to focus on the now, on Derek on top of him, under him, in him, and honestly, it was the most amazing feeling he had ever had; nothing, no one, compared to it.

And it was dumb that even though he had all these questions and insecurities, he didn’t stop to ask about them, to voice them, and instead just forgot about them in favor of keeping what he and Derek had going. 

He had so much; Derek was giving him so much.

And yet, he needed more.

He wanted more.

He had become so greedy.

He moved to flip Derek, and jumped on top of him, directing Derek’s hard cock inside him.

He needed this.

He wanted this.

God, he had become so selfish.

So greedy.

So needy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, thank you for ready and i hope you liked it, i will try to have the next chapter within the next few days, oh and heads up, Kate is coming back in the next chapter -i love her, and i love you all <33


	7. Maddening

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It's amazing that the heart makes no noise when it cracks.” 
> 
> ― Robert Cormier

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's almost been a year, i know i suck, but in my defense... my laptop got stolen when i went to mexico and i'm poor so i had no money to replace it, and then when i finally did, guess what? i realized i didn't save my chapter anywhere else, so i had to start from scratch and i almost gave up on life, but then one day, when it was late at night and i couldn't sleep, i started listening to one direction -ikr? who knew? kill me but the 4th album is magical af - and my inspiration came back and after one week, here it is. it's trash, but eh, i like it enough. so kids, moral of the story, email your shit to all your emails so that you don't lose it like my dumb self!
> 
> also, and before i forget, buy zayn's mind of mine on itunes. i love you all <3

“You’re a song, written by the hands of God,  
Don’t get me wrong, ‘cause this may sound to you a bit odd,  
But you own the place where all my thoughts go hiding,  
Right under your clothes is where I find them,

Underneath your clothes,  
There’s an endless story,  
There’s the man I chose,  
There’s my territory,  
And all the things I deserve,  
For being such a good girl, honey,”

- _Underneath Your Clothes_ , Shakira

Stiles thought about a lot of things lately.

And by a lot of things, he meant Derek’s face, his haunting eyes, the feel of his stubble against his neck, his soft breathing, the rasp of his voice and how it sent jolts of electricity all over his body, the smoothness of his neck, the sturdiness of his chest, the firmness in his arms, the curve of his shoulders, the tattoo on his back, his happy trail and about tracing every inch of him everyday.

He also thought about the uncertainty that came with wanting to have Derek with him everyday.

Derek and Stiles were at this point in their non-relationship where they had somehow, in a weird way, almost crossed every boundary they might have had. Climbed over any walls they had built. They had barged into each other’s life’s without warning, without meaning to and they had seen every inch of each other in many different places.

And yet.

They were also at this point in their life where they were still hiding from the rest of the world, or rather, Stiles felt that Derek was hiding him from the rest of the world, except from his daughter and Stiles figured no one else mattered.

But Stiles also figured that it was because he was being somehow put aside, or rather, their on going weird unspoken relationship, was the one being hidden. And Stiles was okay with it at the beginning, but now, after almost two months -and Stiles knew two months was nothing -but still, after that time, how could they still not know what they were. Or how could Stiles not know what they were? Where he stood?

He didn’t know what they meant to each other and he wanted to ask, he did, but every time he had worked up the courage to do so, he saw Derek and thought of all the things he had and he didn't want to lose it. But, how could he lose what he didn’t really have?

“Stiles?” called Scott staring right into Stiles’ eyes bringing him back to the now, the locker room full of half naked soccer players.

Stiles had not seen Scott in nearly a month and yet he couldn’t concentrate on his friend for even a minute. All he could think of was Derek.

“Sorry,” he said. “Lost my train of thought.”

“You okay?” asked Scott. “You seem a bit out of it. You coming down with something?”

Stiles shook his head “no”.

“You sure?” asked Scott.

“Yes,” said Stiles smiling. “I’m fine -just stressed. How’re you? Your knee?”

Scott stared at Stiles’ face for a long second before nodding once, and then proceeding to put on his jersey.

“I’m good,” he said. “My knee’s good.”

But nothing else.

And Stiles knew that the reason he didn't say anything else was because he was still thinking about him and he knew that Scott knew that there was something bothering Stiles and Stiles didn’t like worrying Scott -ever, specially not before a game.

Stiles watched as Scott fixed his shin guards in place, and put on his socks, and proceeded to lace up his shoes, not saying a word. This was not their routine. They always catched up, joked, laughed, but today all that they both could do was keep silent.

Stiles hated it.

“Alison will be here today, right?” asked Stiles, already knowing the answer but hoping to melt the ice between them.

Scott smiled and Stiles felt at ease.

“Yeah,” he said. “She said she’d be here.”

  
“That’s cool,” said Stiles. “Any plans afterwards?”

Scott smiled. “I hope so.”

And Stiles smiled too.

From the moment Stiles met Alison, he had felt a strong pull towards her. It wasn’t because he felt attracted to her -and Alison was beautiful in every way imaginable -but it was because he felt that she would become a permanent fixture in his life. At first, he didn’t know what it was about Alison that always made him feel at easy, even when they were debating or competing against each other; Stiles always felt somehow at ease knowing Alison was there and happy regardless of losing.

Then one day, he realized that Alison had the same mentality as Scott, pure but strong, and Stiles felt even more at ease knowing that someday, Alison would really be in his life forever.

And now, here he was seeing Scott get happy just at the mention of Alison’s name.  
  
“How’s it all going with you guys?” asked Stiles.

“Good,” replied Scott, his smile brighter. “I really like her, you know?”

And Stiles just smiled.

“I gotta go out there before Finstock kicks me out bro, but I’ll see you later,” said Stiles grabbing Scott’s shoulder.

And Scott nodded in response.

Stiles walked out of the locker room at once -didn’t even bother replying to Jackson’s usual jabs. He just walked out into the hallway, didn’t even go check out the grass, he just walked to his usual spot and sat.

And he wondered if it would have been different had Derek decided to tag along.

Stiles asked him if he wanted to go with him to the game about two weeks ago, told him he was going and wanted to know if Derek would come too so that he could buy tickets. He wasn't actually going to buy tickets, but he figured he’d just say that to Derek as a way to confirm that he’d go.

And when Derek said he was going to have to think about it, Stiles just laughed it off -but honestly, he knew that meant Derek wouldn't go with him. And the thing was, it was kind of always this way.

When Stiles asked Derek to go with him somewhere, Derek wouldn’t. He would tell him he couldn’t go, but would tell him to have lots of fun and to call him when he was back home to make sure he was okay. But every time Derek asked Stiles out to any place, Stiles always ended up going. And it wasn't to say that Derek forced him, it was that Stiles just simply wanted to spend as much time as possible with Derek, and clearly, Derek didn’t think the same.

And Stiles wondered not for the first time if he should take this as a sign for him to stop getting attached to Derek. If he should just try to keep their thing casual like Derek. If he shouldn't think about Derek all day long like Derek didn't think about him.

But every time he decided not to let himself linger on the thought of Derek, he told himself that it was okay for him to do it. That it was okay for him to give it his all, to allow himself to get caught up in his Derek feels. That it was okay for him to let himself feel what he felt for Derek. That if their non-relationship ended, he would have no regrets because he would have tried every thing he had wanted. That he would have tended to Derek’s needs, wants, and also his own. That giving more in their non-relationship, at the end of it, would not make him the loser.

It would mean that he had given it a go, given it his best, from begin to end and he would not be the one with regrets, it would be Derek.

He told himself this over and over and over and over until he had enough strength to pick up the phone and call Derek and see if he wanted to see him that night. Most times, Derek wanted to, and Stiles drove to see him; sometimes, Derek drove to see him. And Stiles loved when Derek was with him, how he made him feel when he was with him. But, he hated when it was over -when Derek had to leave.

Sometimes, Derek said he couldn't see him, and Stiles pretended that everything was okay -that he understood that Derek was busy. Other times, he couldn't hide his disappointment and it was easy for Derek to notice it, at which point Derek sweet talked him into understanding the situation -that he was busy, that he had to care or Soph, and Stiles let it go.

He always did.

The whistle blew out in the field letting Stiles know that the game had ended and that he had missed the whole thing.

Stiles had missed the game, had completely become self absorbed to the point of missing the whole thing.

Who had won?

He scanned the field looking for Scott and he couldn't find him.

Was Scott alright?

He got up from his seat, pushed his way through the crowd, ran to the locker room to find Scott sitting on a chair, eating another banana.

Scott looked up and smiled at Stiles.

At the look of him, Stiles’ eyes got watery.

“You’re not okay,” said Scott as he took another bite of his banana.

Stiles shook his head.

He walked over to Scott, and Scott put his arm over his shoulder lightly and Stiles felt his eyes fill with tears.

“What is it?” asked Scott. “Is it work?”

“Kind of,” replied Stiles not wanting to tell Scott everything.

“Just get out of it if it’s becoming too much,” said Scott.

And Stiles nodded.

It was becoming too much.

And he should get out of it.

But, he wondered if he could.

If he would.

~*~

Stiles felt dizzy.

And fuzzy.

And smelly.

And his stomached felt uncomfortable, and he felt hot, really hot.

He moved slightly and the whole world moved making him want to throw up, but he immediately covered his mouth, and groaned.

Stiles didn't know what had happened.

One minute, he had been sad about the whole thing with Derek and the next, he was in the club, jumping up and down Alison, and her aunt, Kate, along side him.  Scott was up in the VIP lounge with Boyd, and Danny, his closest friends from the team.

Stiles didn't know how they ended up in the club, all he remembered was meeting up with Alison and her aunt at the bar in Scott's hotel.  Alison introduced her aunt and Stiles hadn't liked her much, he didn't know why, but she seemed cold, fake even, but oddly, something about her seemed familiar.  He didn't know what it was, but something about the way she arched her brow at the same time she smiled sent chills down his spine.

Despite him not wanting to go to a club, and Scott not wanting to go anywhere and just stay in with Alison, they ended up going out because Alison's aunt wanted to go out and Alison didn't want to not go with her because she hadn't seen her in so long, and so, they all went.

Stiles drank, danced, drank, jumped, sang and drank some more.  

He had Patron shots, cherry bombs, Vodka shots, beer and more tequila than he had ever had. Stiles drank until he couldn't remember where he was. 

He remembered dancing with Scott, and Alison, and everyone who he ran into. Then he remembered going to the bathroom, being in the bathroom floor, phone in his hand, dialing, calling and calling and calling and calling the one person he didn’t want to call or talk to; yet, he had restlessly called him until he heard his voice.

Ah, and once he did, it was end game.

Everything else disappeared.

Everything turned into a blur, every sound became a deep hum, and he became what he didn’t want to become: an idiot.

Stiles turned his head up to the ceiling, attempted to open his eyes, but failed miserably, and he groaned again.

He kept his hand over his eyes to reassure that no light would get through and he forced himself to think about last night. He knew he had been a mess -something deep in him told him he had become a mess- but he couldn't recall everything else that had happened.

Last thing he remembered was being pulled off the bathroom floor, strong hands pulling him up, a frantic voice saying his name over and over and over again. He remembered being pushed into a black car, and him resisting -or was he trying to throw up? He couldn't recall.

Stiles’ stomach grumbled, and he felt the sudden urge to run to the restroom.

“Scott,” he said, hurling, “Scott! -” he put his hand back to his mouth “-Scott, I, I,” he stopped to swallow the vile of juice forming at his mouth, “I, I’ve got to, uh, throw, ah, uh, ugh -” but he didn’t make it to the restroom, he didn’t even make it out of the bed.

Stiles just managed to turn on his side, and before he could stop himself, everything he might have put in his system last night came out, practically all at once. He threw up on the bare wooden floor, his throat burned, his insides churned, and wait a minute, his apartment didn’t have wooden floors.

And just as he realized this, a warm, smooth hand patted his back, and Stiles wanted to turn at that exact time, but throw up just kept coming out of him and he kept batting the hand away as he kept emptying his stomach on to the floor.

“Scott,” he managed to say between throw ups, “Wh-, wha, -” and he threw up again.

“No,” said the person, groggily, and Stiles panicked.

He didn’t recognize the voice, he didn’t remember most of anything from last night, he couldn’t get his thoughts straight, let alone quit throwing up. He took a deep breath right before throwing up again. Just what stranger could he have gotten mixed up with yesterday? How could Scott let him? Or maybe Scott didn’t know? How was he going to explain this to Derek? Stiles _couldn’t_ lie to Derek, he wasn’t good at lying!

After what seemed like an eternity, Stiles’ insides stopped slipping out through his mouth and he turned on his side, wiping his mouth with the silk covers.

“That’s attractive,” he heard someone say, and the bed moved at the same time.

Stiles opened his eyes, blinking a couple of times until things stopped being blurry, and there, in front of him, was none other than Derek himself, dressed in all black, holding a glass of water.

“Here,” he said pulling Stiles up with one hand and holding the cup of water with the other, “drink this.”

And honestly, Stiles couldn’t be any more relieved.

It was Derek.

Derek.

Der -fuck, Stiles felt himself blush as his eyes met Derek's.

Suddenly, he was embarrassed. Derek had just seen him at his worst and there was no coming back from that.

“Hurry,” said Derek. “I want to move to another room -the smell of vomit is overwhelming.”

Stiles nodded and grabbed the cup in his hand without saying a word, and as he drank, the cold water burned his throat.

Slowly, Derek helped Stiles put on his shirt and pants, and then rubbed his back as Stiles crouched himself over the toilet and threw up some more. He held the rinsener as Stiles rinsed his mouth three times and once he was done, Derek pressed his lips lightly against Stiles’ and he smiled, a solemn smile and Stiles couldn’t help but feel at ease.

Together, and with small stops here and there for Stiles, they made it to the lobby where Stiles watched Derek request an Imperial Suite, and though the lady at the front desk explained there were no more available, and offered a different suite more than three times, Derek got on the phone and in less than a minute, a suite became available.

Stiles didn’t really care for it.

At other times, he would have found it entertaining, would have made his usual "ugh, the power of the Hales" comment, but at this precise moment, all he wanted was to get in bed and sleep the dizziness off -he was practically falling asleep at the front desk, and he might have fallen if it hadn’t been for Derek’s steel like arms holding him tightly.

Half aware of what had happened, Stiles made it to a new bed with Derek. Stiles tucked himself under Derek's neck, wrapped his leg over his and he was immediately gone.

Stiles didn’t know most of what had happened last night, and honestly, he had a feeling he had demanded that Derek pick him up. That he had called Derek and dragged him out of his home to pick him up, and he was embarrassed about it, a lot, but quite frankly, feeling Derek next to him, his bare chest against his, their heartbeats in sync, made him feel at ease. At home. And he knew that Derek would question this -there was no way around it, and Stiles might have to come clean about his feelings, about his worries, and about them, and he would do what he needed to when the time came.

But for right now, for the time being, nothing was better, nothing would ever be better, than having Derek against him, hugging him tightly, reassuringly.

In between sleeping and feeling Derek’s warmth, Stiles had a wild thought: he deserved this.

He was good enough for this.

He loved Derek enough to be allowed to have this.

And not for the first time, he wondered if Derek would give it up to him.

He wondered if Derek would give him half of his heart, his mind, body and soul. If he would give Stiles a place in his life.

Stiles dug himself deeper in the crook of Derek’s neck, at the same time he heard a small whisper and it said, “I would.”

And Stiles knew it was his wild imagination playing him, again, and he didn’t mind.

Stiles smiled as Derek’s arms tighten around him.

/*/

Derek thought about a lot of things lately.

He thought about the honey of Stiles’ eyes, about his long eye lashes and the way they casted shadows under his eyes, about the shape of his eyebrows and how he furrowed them when he was deep in thought, about the tip of his nose, the freckles and moles on his ever pink cheeks and how beautiful it truly was and how he loved tracing them with his fingers when Stiles slept in his arms, about curve of his lips every time he smiled, and his tongue, oh how the way he licked his lips made Derek tingle with excitement every time making him want to do dirty things to him at that exact moment not caring about the place they were or who was in the room.

And that was the thing Derek noticed lately. That Stiles had the ability to make Derek think about nothing but him, when he was with Stiles, nothing else mattered, everything else was always pushed aside and Derek thought about this constantly.

Truth was Derek didn’t know how it was that things turned this way, how lately, all of what he did revolved around Stiles and it was something so new to Derek that he didn't know what to do. He remembered feeling this way at some point and the last time he had felt something similar to this was with Kate and it scared Derek.

It scared him because Stiles’ relationship with him started off backwards. They didn’t casually meet, flirt, hit it off, and start to date. They had skipped over all of that and headed straight to the fucking part of the relationship.

And it wasn't to say that that was all that their relationship was about because that would be a lie. Yes, at first Derek thought about just having casual, frequent more than casual, good, hard passionate -extremely passionate - sex with Stiles.

And at the beginning, it was easy, and it was all he wanted. He didn’t want to end up caught up in Stiles, or caring about him more than he had to. But, that was easier said than done.

Derek wanted it, Stiles did too, and they had it or vice versa. But somehow, and in between fucks, Derek realized one day that he was really looking forward to spending time with Stiles, and not in a bed or up against a wall even though, by the end of the night, that’s how they ended up.

Stiles had told Derek he was overwhelmed with work, lectures, readings, essays, and he told him how stressed and worried he was and Derek believed him, he had been there and shit wasn’t easy. So, Derek decided to take Stiles out for the weekend. He didn’t know why the thought of stressed Stiles somehow stressed him, or worried him - he didn’t know which one it was - but he didn't like feeling that way.

So, Derek asked Laura to watch his Daughter for the weekend, and he and took Stiles to his family’s beach house in Clearwater, Florida -he wanted to take Stiles to Europe -Greece preferably, or the Caribbean, or some place further away, but with Stiles having to return to his lectures the week before his midterms, Derek opted for a place closer to home.

He called his family to make sure that no one else would be using the beach house, and coordinated to have the usual staff clean the home thoroughly, stock the refrigerator, and then leave the home, he booked a luxury spa, and by the time he hang up the phone to set everything up, he found himself smiling sillily at the thought of surprising Stiles, which why did he even want to in the first place?

Stiles walked into his office, a stack of files in his hands, his book bag hanging from his back, his glasses all the way to the tip of his nose, exposing his eye-bags, one shoe untied, his tie undone, and his spirit gone.

“Hi,” said Derek, getting up from his desk to help Stiles with the files.

“Hey,” replied Stiles.

“What’s all this?” he asked, and Stiles shrugged.

“Honestly,” he said as he handed Derek the files. “I don’t really know.”

And Derek closed his eyes. How could he not know?

Where had he gotten the files?

Why would he have taken them if he didn’t know what they were?

“Who gave them to you?”

“Malia,” he replied, heading for the couch.

Derek sighed, as he looked at the files and Derek would have bitched him out for receiving the files that were supposed to be delivered to Morrell, who took care of closings, but Stiles looked like death already.

Why, why, had Laura decided to hire their cousin -who didn’t go to college, or high school, because she was too busy becoming a hippy- as an assistant?

 _Come on Der, it will keep her out of trouble_ , he mentally heard Laura say.

He paged Malia, and told her to come to his office immediately.

As he waited to bitch at someone, he went to look at Stiles, who had closed his eyes and Derek smiled. How could someone look so good when he was a hot mess?

“You called me?” said Malia coming into Derek’s office without knocking, and honestly, who the fuck did that?

“Did I call for you?” he asked.

And she looked confused.

Derek sighed.

“You gave Stiles -”

“Ah, Stiles!” she said heading to Stiles and sitting on the carpet next to him in a blink of an eye. “You look so exhausted,” she continued, holding his hand and Derek did not appreciate the fact that his cousin always showed deep affection for Stiles.

She had practically been glued to him since day one, and honestly, Derek was not one to be jealous, but the fact that his cousin didn’t know boundaries, and the fact that Stiles didn’t really mind her always grabbing up on him, or clinging to him for dear life was really irking him and he was going to blow up at any moment.

Derek walked over to her at once and pulled her up before she had a chance to touch Stiles’ face, honestly, Derek was going to kill her.

“Malia,” he said. “I called you over, not Stiles.”

“Oh, I know, but he looks really tired. I wonder if he needs anything?”

“He needs sleep.”

“Then I want to help him sleep.”

“Malia, he is a twenty-something, he has been sleeping perfectly fine without your help for all those years, I _doubt_ he needs your help.”

“You never know,” she said shrugging and looking longly at Stiles.

Derek ignored her, but didn’t let go of her, reached for the files and gave them to her.

“These are for closing, they are for Morrell -not for anyone else. Give them to her, and then go to the file room, and continue making sure that the files are color coordinated alphabetical order,” he said as he walked her over to his door.

“But Derek,” she complained. “I don’t like that room.”

“I’m sorry,” he said pushing her out the door, “and thank you.”

He locked the door immediately.

“She’s really nice,” said Stiles in a small whisper.

Derek rolled his eyes.

“Well, I’m glad you think so,” he said as made his way over to Stiles.

“She’s just misunderstood.”

“How so?” asked Derek as he got on top of Stiles.

“Now I can’t remember,” he said, smiling. “All I can think about is you on top of me.”

Derek liked that.

He liked hearing Stiles tell him that every thought exited his brain as soon as he felt Derek. He liked watching smile as soon as he saw Derek. He liked feeling Stiles shiver when he felt Derek’s hands.

“Hmm,” he said, tilting Stile's head to the side to expose his neck, and suddenly, Derek was hard.

Stiles laughed. “I’m too tired.”

“I know,” he whispered against Stiles’ skin, and he felt Stiles get hard too.

“Maybe if you do all the work,” whispered Stiles as he gently ran his hands over Derek’s back.

“I’ve got a meeting in five.”

“We can manage.”

And Derek knew they could, but, the thing was, as weird as it sounded and as unlikely as it was of him, he didn’t want to do Stiles in five minutes. They had done it before, and it was amazing, but right now, he felt like caressing Stiles’ body in its entirety. He wanted to lick him, slowly, and feel him move under him, and the on top of him -he wanted to take his time. And lately, that’s what he had wanted most.

And it wasn’t to say that he was ready to give up on his quickies with Stiles. He didn’t think he would ever be ready to give that up -but, as of just recently, Derek felt the need to take his time with Stiles. It was hard on Derek at first because the first time he realized he wanted to take it slow, was when he realized how amazing Stiles looked coming out of the shower and he had seen him coming out, and coming in, the shower, but seeing him coming out of the shower, flushed, clean, wet, made Derek’s heart beat so fast he was sure it was going to give up at any minute.

“No,” he managed, “instead, I want to talk to you about something else.”

“You’re going to want to _talk_ work over _sex_?” asked Stiles, picking up his head slightly to look Derek right in the eye. “That’s _so_ unlike you. Should I be worried?”

And Derek felt slightly insulted.

“Asshole,” he said getting off Stiles.

“Sorry,” said Stiles, sitting up slightly.

“It’s still about you, though,” said Derek, “just no nakedness or touching.”

“That’s not fun.”

“Actually, I think it will still be a bit.”

Stiles sat all the way up.

“Okay, I’m listening.”

“I was thinking the other day about how stressed you’ve been,” begin Derek as he made his way to his desk fixing his clothes, “I’ve been too,” he said resting against his desk, “so, I thought it’d be nice if you and I could you know, get away for a bit,” he finished with a small shrug, watching Stiles’ face.

And honestly, why did he even shrug?

Why did he have to watch Stiles’ reaction, carefully?

Why was he so nervous?

“Like to a hotel?” asked Stiles, squinting his eyes.

“Not exactly,” replied Derek.

“Then?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of a beach, you and me.”

And Stiles looked down to the floor, biting his lip.

“Like a vacation?” asked Stiles after a long minute.

“Sort of,” replied Derek, biting his lip.

“That’d be nice, but…” said Stiles, playing with his hands.

“But?” asked Derek, pursing his lips.

“I, uh, got no money,” said Stiles in a small whisper. “I mean, I could probably use some from my savings, but you know I’m saving that for my bar exams, and I guess I can ask Scott for some, he’d toss some my way, but, uh, I don’t like to ask Scott for money, and I don’t want you to pay for it, so…”

And Derek nodded.

He knew how Stiles felt about money.

Derek couldn’t really understand the feeling because he always had money, he had been blessed to the point of being able to afford anything and everything he wanted. But it wasn’t the same way for Stiles.

Stiles was born in average home and while he wasn’t born into a low income family, his family was not as wealthy as Derek’s. And of course, Derek didn’t really know the depth of the Stilinskis’ financial situation. All he knew was his and he knew he had more than enough money to provide for himself, and for his daughter, and for Stiles.

But the thing was, despite him having more than enough for Stiles, Stiles didn’t like that.

“I was thinking,” said Derek, as smoothly as he could, “that I could pay.”

And Stiles shook his head.

“Stiles,” begin Derek, “I’m not really going to have to pay.”

But Stiles continued to shake his head.

Derek walked over to the couch, and sat right next to Stiles.

“I’m serious,” he said. “We will take the private plane, go to my family’s beach house in Clearwater, I know, I wanted to go to Cabos or Europe, but you have mid-terms next week, so we can’t go far.”

“It’s not about that,” said Stiles with a small smile. “It’s about the fact that you always take care of everything the we go out -you never let me pay, and honestly, Derek, that hurts my pride a little, but above that, I don’t want you to think I’m trying to use your money.”

And Derek knew.

“I know,” said Derek. “I’m sorry, I’m just so used to just paying for everything and I never do it to offend you, or to anything of that sort, I just do it out of habit. I know you're not trying to use me for my money, and you have earned the right to do so if you wanted to, I probably would willingly let you.”

And Stiles smiled.

“Plus,” said Derek, “I honestly just want to help you relax.”

“Thank you,” said Stiles at the same time that Erica paged Derek.

“Derek,” she said over the intercom.

“I’m on my way,” he replied, and the intercom went off.

“What do you say?” he asked, hopeful.

“For how long?” asked Stiles.

“Three nights, two days.”

“Just you and me?”

“Yeah.”

“And Soph?”

“Laura will watch her.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“I know.”

“Or would you mind?”

“It’s not about that, Soph likes you, and I like that. End of story.”

And Stiles sighed.

“Will you let me buy you a drink?”

And Derek smiled.

“Of course,” he said, pulling Stile in for a kiss.

Derek watched as Stiles laid back on the couch as he grabbed his phone and headed for the door.

Normally, Stiles went with him to his meetings, but with the way Stiles looked lately, he wanted to let him rest. He wanted so many good things for Stiles, he did, but it scared him.

He locked the door behind him and headed to the third floor for the meeting.

As he did, a rare thought crossed his mind: will Stiles be with him by Christmas?

Will Stiles celebrate his birthday with him?

It was rare of him, but the possibility of having someone to celebrate his birthday with him was really exciting. And it being Stiles, the one person he had genuine started to like after Kate, he figured it was a good thing.

The elevator door opened and a tired Alison was standing against the back wall.

He greeted her, and she greeted him back with a perfect smile, she was beautiful, but his mind went straight back to Stiles.

Did he ever date her?

Did he ever liked her?

Liked her smile?

Her eyes?

Her body?

Did he ever touch her?

Did he ever want her?

He shook his head and smiled.

Even if it happened, he knew it was behind Stiles -the way Lydia was a part of his past, and Kate was a part of his.

He was willing to bet that he and Stiles would be together by his birthday.

By Christmas.

By New Year’s.

By Valentine’s.

By Stiles’ graduation.

By the following birthdays.

They would be together.

They would be.

/*/  
  
“Truth is,” said Derek with a straight face. “This -what we have- has to stop.”

Stiles’ head felt hot, he was dizzy, he felt the need to sit despite him already being seated.

He closed his eyes as he told himself not to cry, over and over, and over.

How could this have happened?

Everything had seem good between them -it was getting better. Sure, Laura had found out about them in the worst way possible, and it had been the most embarrassing day of Stiles’ life, but they had gotten past it, and he and Derek had been okay.

A tear threaten to overflow, and Stiles pushed it back, he wasn't going to cry, he wouldn’t.

Stiles thought of what he could possibly say to Derek. And he wondered if anything would make him change his mind, if anything Stiles could do or say would make Derek take back what he had just said, take Stiles in his arms and make love to him again.

What could he say to Derek to remind him that he had reassured him that his wouldn’t happen?

What could he do to remind Derek that they had plans to go to his hometown that weekend? And Derek possibly meet Stiles’ dad? That he loved him, his daughter, and didn't want to be apart from them?

Stiles opened his eyes, and sat there, bitting his bottom lip to prevent him from crying, and nodded.

“It was good while it lasted,” said Derek as he took his knife and cut into his steak.

Stiles nodded, as he bit his lip.

“It was fun,” he said before he took a bite of his steak.

Stiles bit his lip.

“But,” continued Derek between chews, “we have to end this. It’s heading into a four month thing, and I don’t want you to think that we will become a couple.”

I thought we already were, thought Stiles, ripping into his lip.

“I would have to make you a permanent fixture in my life, and I can’t do it. Not to mention, my family won’t allow it. They are expecting me to marry someone from our same realm, you won’t do for them.”

Stiles felt his flesh under his teeth.

How could Derek become so cold, so harsh, in a blink of an eye?

Stiles watched Derek’s mouth continue to move, as he talked, slowly, his voice became a faded echo, and he could no longer hear him. He could only hear the heavy pounding of his heartbeat. And everything became a blur.

Stiles’ mind raced at one hundred miles per hour trying to find what might have caused the change -what might have let him know the change was coming, and he could’t pinpoint an exact time when this happen, and nothing really stuck out to him.

Nothing stuck out to him.

Nothing stuck out.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Noth-

No.

One person did.

One last name.

One raised eyebrow.

One wicked smile.

Argent.

“I don’t love you.”

He heard Derek say, and Stiles tasted blood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> honestly, kate is such a bitch, i love her. and because i love her, i will try my hardest to do the next chapter fast... hope not to take a year, and if you know any inspiring music, leave it in my comments and i will give it a go... oh, and if you haven't listen to troy sivan's blue neighborhood, do it now it's amazing. i love you <3


	8. Giving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek lied.
> 
> It's the end.
> 
> And it's the start.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if anyone was waiting on me to update, i am sorry it took this long. I had actually finished this chapter one week after posting the last one, but i wasn't happy with it. at all. so, i let it sit there hoping to pick it back up again, but it never really happened. so, i deleted it and started from scratch. i am happy with it for now, so here it is. 
> 
> lastly, i've always been: the beatles < any other band ... but fam, i was wrong, they shit good *-*

 

“Got this she wolf appetite that keeps me up all night  
You know the way it works don't be afraid to ask  
Aim high when the target is low  
F-Y-I, I am ready to go  
People say men are just like kids  
Never saw a kid behave like this

What you give is exactly what you receive  
So put me in a cage and lock me away  
And I'll play the games that you want me to play”

 _Give It up to Me_ , Shakira ft. Lil Wayne

 

“Stiles you have to listen to me,” said Derek as he followed Stiles from the lecture hall, not bothering to stay longer to greet the approaching attorneys, professors and students; he wasn’t here for them.

Stiles didn't have to listen to him —hell, Derek wouldn't listen to him if he were Stiles —but he desperately wanted him to.

“Haven’t you said enough?” asked Stiles not stopping.

It was true, he had said more than enough.

It was true.

And it wasn’t.

Derek had begged his sister to let him take her place at Princeton’s Annual Criminal Law Seminar held one week before Christmas. The seminar was highly prestigious and many out of state attorneys signed up, but only a few were able to attend and, of course, only the best attorneys in the state were ever invited as guest speakers and Laura being _The Laura Hale_ was a regular speaker at the seminar.

Derek knew that Stiles would be in attendance and he didn't want to miss the opportunity to see him considering the fact that he hadn't seen him since the time he last saw him at the restaurant were Derek was extremely harsh to him for no reason whatsoever other than the fact that he was an idiot.

“Derek, first, you go and sleep with your intern,” had said Laura when he asked her if she minded giving him her spot as speaker. “I find out about it on the day that I come to your home to share the news that after two and a half years of trying, _two and a half fucking years_ , I'm finally pregnant! And what do I find? You, m _y little brother_ , blowing a naked Stiles, in broad daylight, on the dinner table that I had specially made and imported all the way from Italy and gifted it to your ungrateful ass. And, not to fucking mention, I _eat_ on that table!

“You scar me, and my unborn child, and after finally coming to terms with it — after you swore up and down this wouldn’t happen, that you were going to be responsible for this, that you’d make sure that if you and Stiles ended up having to end your ‘non-relationship’ it wouldn’t have anything to do with the company. Your many speeches finally persuaded me to let this go and to let you handle this situation yourself. But, what do you do the moment I decide to trust you? You dump him one week before Thanksgiving! And why? Because you’re an idiot.”

That day, Laura had arrived at his house, unannounced, and had proceeded to scream at him, Soph on her hip. Derek didn't say anything because he deserved to be yelled at. He knew he did. Honestly, he was surprised Stiles wasn’t the one yelling at him for what he did. If he were perfectly honest, he was kind of hoping that Stiles did show up at his house one day and yell at him —curse at him, hell, Derek was ready to take a punch in the face.

Derek was hoping that after all they had been through, after all the time they had spent together, after all the hours invested in each other’s company, after all the nights spent in each other’s bodies, Stiles would put up a fight, and refuse to let Derek go —or, at the very minimum, let Derek know he wasn’t okay with what Derek was doing, that he was not in agreement with it. That none of it was right and that it most certainly wasn't okay.

But he hadn't.

But also, Derek wasn't so sure he would have stuck around if Stiles would have said all the mean things he had said to him. Derek didn’t even know why he had to go and say all those things when he had told himself that he was going to tell Stiles about his past, tell him about Kate about seeing her about what it meant.

Derek was also ready to burn the bridge between him and Stiles. He was ready to put a label on their relationship and he was hoping that Stiles was willing to do the same. He was ready to tell Stiles that he was okay —more than okay, really —with them having more than just sex even thought that was not all they did.

Since the moment Stiles and Derek started sleeping together, and despite what Derek wanted from the beginning, it never really felt like they were just fuck buddies. Stiles was never just a good lay —he was amazing in bed, which Derek was a bit surprised about in the beginning— but, it wasn’t just about the great head Stiles gave, to Derek at least.

And because Derek felt a strong pull towards Stiles, he hoped that Stiles felt it too. He hoped that because he was attracted to Stiles mind and body, Stiles would be too. And, if he dared say it, he was even willing to go the extra mile and tell Stiles that yes, at the very beginning he could really stand him, that the very thought of him having to deal with Stiles infuriated him; but, that somewhere along the lines they crossed, he felt himself wanting to be around him. Most days anyway.

But, things escalated — well, not really, it was more that he panicked and ended up saying things he shouldn’t have and he wished he hadn’t, he wished he could take them back, but he had and there was nothing he could do to take them back.

Derek hated what had happened.

He hated what he had done.

He hated what he had said.

He hated Kate for returning.

He hated Kate for showing up at his apartment.

He hated Kate.

He hated her.

Her.

 _Him_.

He hated him.

He hated him for not calling.

He hated him for not texting.

He hated him for having ended his internship early for the fall.

He hated him for avoiding him.

He hated him for not wanting to see him.

He hated him for not showing up at his house and banging on his door until Derek opened it and let him in. He never did it, but he really thought that after he had said what he said to Stiles and Stiles not having had the chance to say anything back to Derek or even question his motives, Stiles would end up at his door and go in on him for being an asshole.

Derek had never thought he’d be like this, but here he was hoping Stiles would come to him and let Derek attempt to redeem himself for what he had done or at the very least, let him explain himself. These thoughts that Derek kept having made him feel like a hypocrite.

On one hand, he had hurt Stiles, pushed him away in the worst way imaginable, and on the other hand, he was hoping that Stiles would come to his door and take him back. And then again, he kept telling himself that all he had wanted with Stiles was sex. By definition, he should be able to break it off with him at any point in time and be okay with it and move on and Stiles should be able to do the same. Then why was it that he kept losing sleep over it?

It was stupid.

“Derek,” had said his sister pulling him back to her. “You can't just expect me to help you fix this, you understand that, right?”

Derek had sighed.

“You literally offered to handle this if I broke it off with Stiles when you found out,” said Derek. “What’s the difference now that I’m asking you to let me have an excuse to see him? I’m not asking you to help me fix it —not really, all I'm asking is that you hand over your spot at the seminar and I’ll do the rest.”

“Are you _kidding_ me?” asked Laura, moving Soph to her other hip. “Derek, this isn’t just any seminar. This is the seminar where we show everyone that our firm is the best in the state —one of the best in the whole country— and you want to use it as a platform to get the opportunity to talk to Stiles? Are you out of your _fucking_ mind? You told me over and over it wouldn't have anything to do with our firm, didn't you?”

“I was hoping it didn’t have to come to this. I was hoping that I’d be smart enough to tell him about Kate, about her being in New York, but I panicked and did something very stupid —I am aware, Laura. And I’m not asking you to fix this because if I can’t fix this you sure as hell won’t be able to. All I want is for you to give an excuse to go see him, to chase him down and make him listen to me,” Derek had begged.

Laura had sighed and sat next to him, Soph on her lap before she spoke, “Sounds like it wasn’t just ‘sex and that’s all’ after all. Der, if you’ve fallen for him and you want to see him, you don’t need an excuse to go chase after him.”

And she was right.

And what she said was true.

And it wasn’t.

It was true that he said that he and Stiles were having sex and that that was all. It was also true that he said that because at that time, he still believed that that was all they were having, all they were going to amount to —but, and in his defense, Stiles hadn’t said they were something else or that he wanted to be something else. Granted, Derek hadn't either.

So, it was true.

And it wasn’t.

Not really.

And right now, him chasing after Stiles wasn’t something that he actually thought would happen, it wasn’t something he thought he’d do. He was hoping that Stiles would let him talk and that he’d listen to Derek open up about his past and allow him to become a part of his present again. Clearly, he had forgotten who Stiles was.

“A lot of the things I said weren’t necessarily all true,” he said as he caught up with Stiles.

Stiles turned to look at him and _God_ , he was beautiful. Derek had missed his face. He’d missed the sun in his eyes, the rose of his lips, the fire in his tongue. And Derek wanted to give him a reason to allow to touch him, to feel him, to taste him.

“Derek,” said Stiles, his eyes still on him. “I’m doing what you told me to do: never talk to you again. Why can’t you do the same?”

And, there it was.

Yes, Derek might have said something along those lines, but he hadn't meant it. Not really, not at all, not even for a slight second. How could Stiles think that after all they had, after all they did, he had meant it?

Derek had come to this seminar ready to negotiate his relationship with Stiles. He hadn't spent an entire week preparing for his lecture just so Stiles would turn him down. He had not begged and bargained with his sister about this spot for Stiles to not even let him say what he had come to say to him. It was infuriating.

So, Derek did the one thing he knew he could do to get Stiles to listen to him. He pulled him into the nearest room and locked the door behind them.

“Stop,” protested Stiles. “Derek stop!”

“I’m not doing anything,” said Derek because he wasn’t, not really. He was slightly crowding Stiles’ space and holding on to his wrists, pinning him against the wall. And that was it. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Jesus, Derek!” said Stiles in a slight high pitch. “You can’t just expect me to listen to you when you’re ready to talk again. Weren’t you the one that told me you didn't want to see me? That you and I were nothing? That I meant nothing to you?”

And again, it was true.

And it wasn't.

“I’m not saying I didn't say it,” said Derek leaning in to Stiles because he couldn't help it. “I’m saying I didn’t mean it.”

“Because that makes it better,” said Stiles with a shrill laugh. “Do you think you telling me that now will change anything?”

“Listen, Stiles, I wanna do this —the talking, I do, but first, Stiles, I _need_ this,” finished Derek claiming Stiles’ soft lips, and he tasted just like Derek remembered him.

Stiles kissed Derek back in full force. And it was as if he had missed this, had needed this, had wanted this. Derek released his hands and as soon as they were free, they automatically, as if by habit, reached Derek’s neck, his back, his hair, pulling him closer. It was as if they had been fasting and they were finally allowed to eat.

Derek knew it’d be this way; he had been thinking about this since the last time he had touched Stiles and it was the same and it was new; it tasted the same and it tasted sweeter.

Derek released Stiles’ lips only to move his across his jaw, down his neck. Stiles hissed as soon as he felt Derek’s wet lips on his neck, and that sound was offensive and persuasive; Derek moved his hands down Stiles’ back and pulled him closer to him feeling Stiles’ hard cock against his.

He wanted to unzip Stiles’ pants, kneel before him and put his beautiful dick in his mouth slowly at first, gently even, until he worked himself into a steady rhythm, making Stiles’ knees buckle, make him come undone and have Stiles run his hands through his hair to steady himself, to keep him from coming so fast. But, as he was about to do just that, Stiles stopped him from giving him the world’s best blow job despite Derek’s need to have them go back to how they were, what they were to each other even if he himself didn't know what that was.

“Derek,” he heaved. “Derek, wait, w—wait, stop, just, uh, for a minute stop.”

And Derek did immediately.

“What’re we doing Derek?” asked Stiles with swollen lips.

“Kissing,” replied Derek.

“Why? Becuase _you’re_ craving it? Because you _need_ it? Because you _want_ it?”

Derek nodded.

“So what about what _I_ crave? What I _need_? What I _want_? Are we going to ignore it or are we going to continue to pretend that it doesn't matter?”

And suddenly Derek was confused.

“Wait,” he said backing away from Stiles. “When have your needs _ever_ been ignored? Because I don't recall that ever happening.”

Stiles laughed as he pushed himself off the wall.

“Really? You don’t remember it?” he asked in between hallow laughs.

“I don’t. Not even once did I not tend to your needs, not even in the beginning of this,” he said waving his fingers between the two of them.

“So now that it’s convenient to you, it’s become _this_ when you kept making it clear it was nothing —that you and I were nothing other than sex partners.”

“Wait a minute,” said Derek. “When did you ever make it clear to me that we were more than fuck buddies, friends with benefits, sex partners or whatever the _fuck_ you want to call it? How was I supposed to know you wanted something else? Did it ever occur to you that you could have told me what you wanted? Be more clear with me so that I could know your expectations?”

Stiles sighed before asking, “Why didn't you?”

And Derek didn't know why he hadn’t. He had thought about it many, _many_ , times. He had decided to tell Stiles that he might like him a bit more than planned, or at the very minimum tell him that he wanted him to be more in his life one way or another, on the day he called him out to see him but instead he went and said stupid shit to him that he wished he could take back, knowing damn well he couldn't take it back now.

“I don’t know, Stiles,” said Derek backing up because he didn't know why he hadn't done it.

It was true.

And it wasn’t.

Derek had known that he should have addressed it from the beginning. He knew that instead of just ignoring it and letting it continue out of pure pleasure, he should have stopped to talk about it when it started to get bigger than he thought it would, but he had been too busy fucking Stiles in every place they went, in every way they could manage with the time they were allotted.

“Stiles, I honestly didn't think that we could amount to anything,” said Derek as he reached a hand to stroke his face, the face he had missed. “Can you blame me for thinking that?”

Because honestly, could he?

“I’m not saying that I blame you for anything other than my lack of dignity,” replied Stiles leaning in to Derek’s touch. “Because I don’t. But, Derek, after what happened three weeks ago, I can’t act like shit doesn't affect me. I, Derek, I —I’m not sure, and I could be mistaken, but I think that I might, uh, actually like you, like a lot, I —”

“You do,” interrupted Derek, earning a deadpan stare from Stiles. “I do too, otherwise I wouldn’t be standing in front of you right now.”

“I figured,” said Stiles with a smile. “But, Derek, what you did —what you said to me that day, I can still hear it. I keep thinking about it. It really hurt me —”

“I know and I’m sorry,” interrupted Derek.

“Actually, you _don’t_ , but I need an explanation —I feel like I deserve one, so give me one.”

Derek felt it was time for him to give in, to give up and let Stiles break the last wall that separated them. He opened his mouth, and closed it back up.

How could he tell him about her? How could he tell him about the last five years of his life as if it was nothing? How could he let Stiles have that last piece of him that he was so ashamed of? How could he let Stiles in that far, that deep, when he was not ready to deal with it?

He thought he was.

He wanted to.

He had pictured himself giving it up to Stiles many times, but now that the time had come, he wasn’t ready. He wasn’t.

“Stiles,” he said. “Do you remember that trip we took before your mid-terms to the beach?”

“How could I forget,” replied Stiles.

“What’s the first thing that comes to your mind when you think about it?” he asked.

Stiles opened his mouth, but then closed it back up.

Derek kept his eyes on him because he wanted an answer. He wanted to know how Stiles remembered those three days. And he hoped he remembered them the way Derek did. He hoped that Stiles remembered the sun, the warmth, the heat, their sweat, their bodies, their touch, their moans, their whispers, their laughs, their heartbeats the way Derek did.

“You?” asked Stiles instead.

“Me first?” asked Derek with a small smile. He could give that up. “Okay. The first thing that comes to mind is you. You against the bed, the warm sea breeze entering the room adding extra warmth. You being drunk, pulling on my hair, away from your lips directing me to you —not to your cock like I thought you were —but to place my ear against your chest. I remember how you whispered: _It does this when I’m with you_.”

Stiles blushed and Derek smiled.

“I don’t remember that,” lied Stiles.

“Well, I do,” continued Derek. “And I remember making love to you that night, not fucking you —not once did I think of that as a fuck, did you know? I remember me licking, kissing, worshipping every inch of you over and over, burning ever breath you took, every moan you made, ever word you whispered into my memory. If I concentrate hard enough, I can still smell you. I can still hear you. I can still feel you.”

Derek let his words sink and watched Stiles’ amber eyes burn to honey as the weight of his words hit him, as the weight of the memory worked every nerve in his body setting him on fire. And Derek wanted to have him again over and over until he couldn't any more. He wanted him to forget that day at the restaurant, the words he said, the way he made him feel because he wasn’t ready to tell him about her, about her appearing in front of him again.

Derek hoped it’d be that easy.

And he thought it would be until Stiles spoke again.

“Is this your way of avoiding giving me an explanation?” asked Stiles.

Derek didn't respond because it was and he wasn’t so sure Stiles would like that answer.

“Because if it is, Derek, I, I’m not ready for any of it again. We haven’t seen each other in almost three weeks —by your request if I can fucking add —and you’d think that during that time, I’d grown a back bone and I’d be ready to tell you to go fuck yourself as soon as I saw you again. But instead, the words that are swirling around in my mind are: fuck me. Fuck me hard on the table, against the wall, on the floor and every where else. Fuck, I’d let you fuck me mid-air if it were possible.”

“We could figure it out,” said Derek the idea of having Stiles in any which way suddenly over powered any other thought and he stalked forward wanting to be closer to Stiles. “If you’d let me.”

“I’m sure we could, we’ve always managed and it’s always been great —awesome even, but after what you told me that day, Derek I don't want to do that again. I’m not gonna lie —I’m hurt and I don't want to pretend like we can move past it, like I didn't hate you for saying all of that to me,” said Stiles.

“I don’t want to get into that right now,” said Derek.

“Then why’d you even come here?” asked Stiles.

“Because I missed you, because I want you,” said Derek.

Stiles’ back hit the wall and suddenly, Derek was less than a foot from him. Derek could smell the coffee from his mouth, the shampoo from his hair, the musk of his cologne. He could feel the warmth of his breathing, see the tremble in his bottom lip, hear the need that escaped his throat and Derek wanted to close the distance.

“Because _you_ missed me, because _you_ want me,” continued Derek.

“I’m _not_ doing this again,” said Stiles between jagged breaths.

And Derek understood.

“Neither am I,” he said not stepping away from him.

“Then, are we, we’re, uh, we —we’re good?”

Derek nodded.

“Real good,” he responded as he reached his hands to tug on Stiles’ coat.

Stiles smiled and pulled on Derek’s coat as he said, “Good. Then Derek, I hate you for saying that to me and I'm not sure I'll _ever_ be over that.”

“That's understandable. I was going to ask Laura to take you for the end of your internship, if that would make it easier for you,” said Derek. “But now —” he continued as he leaned in to Stiles’ face “—but now after talking to you, I’m not going to anymore because see, now, I dislike you a little and I’m ready to make your internship a bit of a living hell,” finished Derek, not caring that those words were the most childish things he ever said, stopping short of a breath from Stiles’ mouth.

“I can’t wait,” finished Stiles setting his honey eyes on Derek’s lips.

And that was all they needed.

That was all it took.

Derek placed his lips on Stiles’ and it was end game.

They were back to day one.

They were miles away, but suddenly, they were back to being in Derek’s apartment where it had all begin. One of them was nailing the other to the wall, frantic lips devouring every inch of skin it could reach. The other was frantically pulling off coats, unbuttoning shirts, unzipping pants and pulling them off.

They were back to relearning every inch, every nook, every freckle, every breath.

They were back to syncing their breathing, their moans, their heartbeats.

And it was the end of what they used to be.

And it was the start of what they were going to become.

It was over.

And it wasn’t.

Derek was ready to give more this time around.

Derek was ready to push Kate out of his life again, and let Stiles in.

Derek was ready to slowly, inch by inch, give in to Stiles.

Derek was ready to stop the childish games and open more than his body to Stiles.

Derek was ready.

And because he felt ready, he hoped Stiles was too.

Because it was the end.

And it was the start.

Because it wasn’t over.

Because it would never really be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im not gonna lie, i don't know when i'll update this again, but i will try for it to be soon. thank you reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what it is -but, kate is still one of my favorite people in the world. like, wow, who knew right?


End file.
